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waywardxwords · 1 year

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Family, Friends and Loved Ones

Summary: You make it home for Thanksgiving to see your family again, bringing Sam and Dean with you.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: ~1.6k

Warnings: Slight language, fluff!

A/N: Day 2 of the #flufftober2023 (@flufftober) prompt challenge! The prompt is: Friends, Family, Loved Ones. Side note: if you are on my tag list, I am planning/attempting to post once a day during the month of October. I know that's a lot of tags and mentions, so if you'd like to be removed you can do so through the Tag List linked in my bio.

I hope you enjoy!

Fall was undeniably your most favorite time of the year. You loved everything about it—the changing leaves, the cooler weather, but especially the food: turkey, mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole (and Dean's favorite, pie). Brown and yellow leaves passed by as you looked out the back window of the Impala.

“I’m just so excited!” You could hardly contain yourself. It had been far too long since you had made a trip home. While your parents and family understood, they missed you–and you missed them. Life as a hunter was complicated and confusing at times, but you grew up in a family of hunters. Your father considered himself retired now, but he always jumped back in if a job stumbled upon him. “I love Thanksgiving so much.”

Sam flashed you a small smile over his shoulder from the front passenger seat. He looked back to the road before he spoke. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a real Thanksgiving.” He murmured as he watched the passing trees and cow fields.

“Oh, bullshit,” Dean bickered back. He looked from the road to his younger brother, then back again. “We’ve had plenty of Thanksgivings.”

Sam’s brow knitted together as he contemplated. “I don’t know, man. I don’t remember the last time we had an actual Thanksgiving dinner–turkey, stuffing, the whole nine yards.”

“Yeah, well, your memory’s shit,” Dean mumbled under his breath.

You rolled your eyes but leaned forward in the seat to point ahead. “See that road there? Turn right,” you instructed. Dean nodded as he whipped the Impala around the corner. “It’s the first house on the left.”

The excitement from seeing your family again was taking a toll on you, and you felt yourself almost wiggle against the seat as your house came into view. It took a lot of strength to suppress a squeal–you could feel Dean’s judgment without him even looking at you–but kept your hand on the door handle, ready to throw it open as soon as the car lulled to a stop.

“Baby!” Your mother was already halfway down the steps leading off of the front porch. The smile that spread across her lips was one you hadn’t seen in a long time, even on FaceTime. She had always worried so much about you hunting, even though she’d said she understood.

“Mama,” you breathed as she embraced you. The scent of her shampoo and light perfume instantly calmed you in a way no one else could, except maybe Sam.

As you remembered the man you had been with for over a year behind you, you pulled from her grasp and beamed up at him. “Mama, this is Sam Winchester. And that’s his brother, Dean.”

“Sam,” she smiled a smile that reached her eyes. “It’s so good to finally meet you.” She embraced him tightly, just as she had you.

“It’s really nice to meet you, too,” he hugged her back and grinned at you over her shoulder.

“Well, come on, now,” she drawled at Dean. He emitted a chuckle as he made his way around the Impala and gave her a friendly hug.

“Thanks for having us,” Sam called as you pulled your duffel bag from the backseat. Sam took it from you almost instantly, which made your heart feel warm.

“Any friends of my baby are always welcome,” she gleamed. “Come on inside, your daddy is out back with your brother and sister.”

After the boys gathered their own duffel bags, the three of you followed your mother up the steps leading into the house. You hadn’t realized how much you had missed the smell of home until you smelled it: warm cinnamon mixed with the sweet potato casserole your mom had in the oven. It brought a sense of peace over you that you hadn’t felt in a while.

Just as you entered the kitchen, the back door opened and you heard the familiar voice of your younger brother. “Look what the cat dragged in,” he grinned as he approached.

You managed the initial introductions—Sam and Dean seemed to fit in better than you expected. Sam wouldn’t say the words, but you could tell he was nervous. You caught him rub the palms of his hands down his jeans twice to get the stickiness from nervous sweat off. But he didn’t need to be; your family was just really glad to see you, and they had heard such great things about the boys.

“So, you and my daughter, huh?” Your Dad couldn’t help but bring up over the noise of the TV in the background.

“Yes, sir,” Sam said. His voice sounded strong, but you knew better. “I’m sure you weren’t thrilled she decided to date a hunter.” He cleared his throat a little and broke eye contact with your dad, but only for a second.

“You would think that, right?” Your dad chuckled as he looked down at the bottle of beer in his hand. “You’re not completely wrong. When the kids were growin’ up, I would tell their mother they better choose a normal life. School, then marry someone regular, like an accountant, or somethin’,” Sam’s gaze fell again as your dad spoke. “But my wife kindly reminded me that this life was all they knew. And I’d be real lucky to have my kids meet partners that understood this life; people they didn’t have to hide from and could be totally honest with. People that would help keep ‘em safe.” His voice dropped a bit as he said his last sentence. He toyed with the beer bottle in his hand before he made eye contact with Sam once more. The tone of his voice made a bubble of emotion form in the back of your throat.

Sam nodded his head once but made sure he made eye contact with your dad as he said, “I promise you I will do whatever I can to keep her safe.”

Your Dad nodded as he studied Sam’s face. “I can tell you mean that, son.”

Sam excused himself and made his way over to where you had watched inconspicuously from the doorway leading from the dining room to the kitchen. He grinned down at you as he approached, not afraid to snake his arm around your waist slightly. You looked up to him, raising your head in a way that told him you were waiting for a kiss. He obliged, giving you a quick peck.

“That went well,” you murmured softly as he pulled away.

“Yeah,” he chuckled and glanced back where your Dad sat at the table, already enveloped in the pre-game festivities on the TV he could see in the living room. “You have a really great family. I’m surprised you chose to hunt with us instead.” He cocked his head to the side as he searched your face to try to understand why you chose them; or why you chose him.

“Well, not to sound like a typical girl or anything,” you rolled your eyes playfully and heaved a dramatic sigh. “But there’s kinda this guy…”

“Oh, yeah?” Sam grinned as he matched your playful tone. You took a second to bask in the glow of his joy. “Tell me about him.”

“Oh, you’d love him,” you kept up the ruse as you brought one hand up to a button on his flannel, his fingers still splayed across your lower back. “He’s super smart, he went to Stanford, you know? But more than that, he’s kind, he’s loving, and he’s super attractive. Oh! And very, very tall.”

A slight rose color rose to Sam’s cheeks as he broke eye contact for a second, the grin still stretched across his face. “Super tall, huh?”

“Oh yeah, gigantic,” you emphasized the word as you inched closer to his face.

“Alright, alright,” he cut you off with another quick kiss. “I love you, too.” He beamed as he pulled back and met your gaze. This time it was your turn for the heat to reach your cheeks. Only a moment later, you heard your mom’s voice from the kitchen.

“Okay, kids! Dinner’s just about ready,” she called out to the other areas of the house to gather everyone. You all made your way to the kitchen. Sam wasn’t afraid to stand behind you with his arms wrapped loosely around your waist—he knew he had gotten the okay from your father and that he fit right in. You were happy to see Dean talking with your brother; it was probably about hunting, but that was okay. It was at least someone to talk to.

As you all stood around your family’s kitchen, you took a moment to observe. Your Mom laughed at something Dean said, which caused him to break into a smile you hadn’t seen from the man in a very long time. Your Dad conversed with Sam–thankfully not about hunting, but rather pre-law and what his college experience at Stanford was like. Your sister and brother bickered over who would win the big game, and while you wouldn’t voice it, your money was on the Cowboys. As your eyes traveled around the room, you felt Sam’s fingers reach around your hand and give a gentle squeeze. You moved to look back into his hazel gaze and realized your eyes had glassed over while taking it all in.

“Everything okay?” His voice was low as he observed the emotions across your face.

You nodded and brought your fingertips up just under your eyes to wipe away any stray tears. “Everything is perfect.” He leaned to you and gave you a quick peck, making your smile grow and your heart warm even more. And everything was perfect. Because what more could you ask for? You had your family, friends and loved ones all together–you were thankful.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read, I hope you enjoyed it!

Tag List: @hallecarey1 @zepskies @lacilou

#flufftober2023 #flufftober 2023 #02 #supernatural fan fic #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural ff #spn fanfic #spn ff #sam winchester x female reader #sam winchester one shot #sam winchester fan fic #sam winchester fan fiction #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you

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sammysmaddy · 9 months

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Normal (Winchesters x Reader) - Part Four

Summary: Growing up as the baby of the Winchester family led you to be constantly guarded. Soon enough, you start to learn what's normal between families and what's not.

Characters: John x Daughter!Reader, Dean x Sister!Reader, OFC!Shauna x Dean, OFC!Sophia x Reader

Warnings: incest, sistercest, daughtercest, girls kissing girls, angry!/drunk!john, needy!Dean, drugs, alcohol, angst, hair pulling (more like physical abuse), Daddy kink I guess, a bit of degradation, manipulation, crying, praise kink, oral

W/C: 5.9k+

A/N: Merry Christmas to my followers who celebrate! Happy Holidays to everyone and I hope to be posting more!

Normal Masterlist

Masterlist

With John recently deciding that Sam was old enough to go on larger hunts with him, that meant much more time with Dean. They were off again after John came home after a few hours because he had decided that he needed to make things right with Sam.

John had finally realized that it wasn't his or Sam's fault that Sam got hurt, but John just reacted that way because he didn't like to see any of his children busted up.

You, being stuck at home with Dean, had been eating a lot of pizza, drinking a lot of beer, and waking up in his arms every morning. Things seemed normal again, Dean acted like he hadn't done anything, and you spent many hours out of the day thinking about how to bring it up with him.

What if he didn't bring it up because it was a one-time thing and he was drunk? What if he didn't have those kinds of feelings for you? It hurt for you to think that way, but you needed to be prepared in case he didn't see you the same way that you saw him.

Plus, maybe he didn't even know what you were capable of. Maybe he didn't know that you had done sexual things before and that you weren't innocent.

It was a Friday night in a random city in Wisconsin, your family seemed to go there a lot for hunts, and it was disgustingly cold outside. Still, it was your idea when you said you wanted to go to a party.

You weren't exactly a people person and Dean was the only one who would entertain the idea of going out and being social, so you knew when John and Sam left earlier this week that this would be your opportunity.

This time though, you came prepared. You planned on making your own drinks, staying away from trouble, and focusing on having a good time.

Though the last party was fun because you talked about random books and old movies that would bore any regular human, things went downhill before you even knew it. This time, you were determined to do it right.

Things were already turning out much better, with no Jordan's anywhere to be seen. The party was much less dark and colorful than the last because people seemed to be more focused on being able to talk rather than dance. This party setting made you feel much more comfortable.

Maybe it had to do with the fact that there were more clouds of marijuana than red solo cups filled with vodka, but it didn't matter- you were happy. The only bad thing about the atmosphere was the smell itself, John nor your brothers had ever shown an interest in it so it was a little bit offensive to your palette.

It was good to get a change of pace. The music wasn't playing so loud that you had to yell in order to have a conversation, you didn't get weird looks every time you brushed past someone, and above all, everyone seemed to be happy. Except Dean.

Dean hardly left your side, still causally flirting with any woman in close proximity, but he wouldn't leave you alone for more than two minutes at a time.

The women were different here, more sophisticated and graceful, and while Dean tried his best, he just couldn't connect with them like usual. You wondered if Dean was scared that he was losing his spark, the idea delightfully playing around in your mind, but Dean kept trying- one girl after another after another.

It was a delicacy to watch, having to see Dean try so hard when really people here only seemed to be attracted by intelligence. He had never had to try hard at anything in his life, school- he didn't care about, hunting- naturally talented, girls- easy, it was strangely satisfying.

For someone with such a strong God complex, Dean should be having dazed girls lined down the hall just to hear him talk about himself. You almost felt guilty watching Dean struggle so hard. Half of the time he couldn't keep up with the random philosophical conversations anyway, but it was fun watching him bullshit his way through before ultimately becoming disinterested.

That's why when Shauna, a beautiful curly-haired brunette, came around and offered Dean some attention, you finally felt him peel away from your side. You saw the light in his eyes that had been dimming throughout the night brighten, and you slowly faded into the background as he worked his magic.

Now, it was time to focus on yourself. You smiled at people who smiled at you as you made your way to the kitchen, making yourself a drink to keep the happy buzz coursing through your veins.

The red solo cup in your hand felt whole again, filled to the brim with very diluted alcohol so that you could keep your cool, and things seemed to be turning out great for both you and Dean.

Although you still had to go out and talk to people- something you're not extremely experienced with, you were excited to.

You had met a handful of people in your life, most, if not all, were disposable and never seen again, but you never really had any true friends. Sam was your best friend, of course, but you knew it wasn't really the same.

You didn't even really know where to begin. Some people seemed too entranced by their partners, some smiled down at their phones, and some just had resting bitch face on full display.

It began to feel a little lonely, your eyes occasionally glancing at Dean across the room, but you tried your best just to enjoy the time out of the motel. And even though you were alone in your head, you were most certainly not truly alone.

You were content, happy to see other people being happy regardless of whether or not it was with you. This was what life was like without constant intrusion from your family and it granted you a sort of freedom, a freedom you hadn't realized you craved until tonight.

When you and Sam were young, you would often dream of a life out of a motel. With Mary dying on your six-month birthday and John going insane trying to avenge her death, the only thing you and Sam had, apart from Dean, was imagination.

You used to dream of one day growing old and staying best friends with Sam until you died, moving to Hawaii or back 'home' to Kansas, or maybe even getting a real job someday.

The both of you understood that it didn't exactly sound glamorous, like becoming famous or having tons of money, but anything beat the Hunter's life. It was a dead-end road, full of misery and hatred for every living thing on Earth, and a part of you thanked John for keeping you away from it as much as possible.

But you couldn't help but feel stuck. What else to life was there other than living in motels and killing bad guys? You wouldn't know, much less ever get the chance to figure it out.

But, you were far from unhappy. You were surrounded by people you loved and while times would get rough, John would get drunk, the credit cards would fail at the restaurants, or one of the boys would come home wounded, you all made it work.

You had an unbreakable bond with Sam, a wild side that Dean helped to bring out, and an undying loyalty for family because of John. Things could always be much worse than they are.

"You know, for someone watching your boyfriend with another girl, you don't seem to be too upset," A random voice snapped you out of your thoughts. Your head turned to look at the girl standing next to you, she reached out her hand to greet you, "Sophia."

"Y/N," You greeted back, shaking her soft but firm hand.

It took you a little longer to respond, she had beautiful feminine features but she was assertive and reminded you of John. You almost felt bad for trying to read her like a book, there was such a strange energy that surrounded her.

"A fan of voyeurism, are we?" Sophia chuckled, giving you a small smirk, and your eyebrows raised.

"Of what?" You asked and she laughed a little louder. "I'm sorry, I don't know what that is." You laughed lightly, trying to understand the strange word, and she gave you a teeth-filled smile.

"Don't worry about it, sweetheart. That is your boyfriend, right?" She asked with her eyebrow raised, a concerned, but cocky, look on her face.

"No, he's not my boyfriend," You blushed at the question and she gave you a small smile.

"Well, you seem to like him a lot. Maybe you should just ask him out sometime." She encouraged, nudging you with her elbow lightly.

"It's really not like that," You laughed awkwardly and she raised her eyebrows up and down to say that she wasn't a firm believer in your statement.

"Right, it's not like you're practically eye-fucking him while he talks to my girlfriend Shauna." She scoffed and you tilted your head.

You were just happy that Dean was happy, no eye-fucking involved.

"She's your friend? She's really pretty," You told her and she shook her head.

"Girlfriend. Open relationship, I kind of figured that's how you guys were too. I mean, he's barely left your side the entire night." She corrected, pointing out why she had her assumptions.

You frowned, are you supposed to be upset that Dean's with another girl? Are you supposed to be feeling jealous that it's not you?

"Are you ever jealous?" You asked out of curiosity, the idea of an 'open relationship' new to your mind.

It was strange at first glance, but the more thought that was put in, the more it was intriguing. Not that you had an official partner in the first place.

"Not really. She picks out the scumbags, no offense, fucks them, and then comes home to tell me all about it," She tells you honestly, a smile plastered on her face.

She reminds you of Sam, he always loved hearing about the aftermath of your night out with John.

"Plus, she's usually unsatisfied and girls do it much better." She added in a whisper, a smooth wink following behind.

"I'm sure they do," You replied, fighting back a blush that you quickly deduced and blamed on alcohol.

"You ever been with a girl, Y/N?" Sophia asked, licking her lips as the question concluded and you found yourself staring.

"No, um, I've never really thought about it," You said, almost stuttering your way through.

Surely the alcohol had to do with the way you were feeling, but all-in-all, she was attractive and there was no denying it. You'd seen girl-on-girl porn, almost a preferable choice because they always seemed to enjoy themselves a little bit more, but it wasn't ever something that crossed your mind.

Now, there was an undeniably hot girl in front of you talking about sexuality, it was all a little confusing.

"I'm not a psychic, but something tells me you're curious," She smirked, and your mouth opened to reply but nothing came out.

Sophia's hands landed on the collar of your jacket, straightening it, which made your breath hitch in the back of your throat.

"Relax, I'm not gonna bite unless you want me to," She chuckled and you began to realize that your knuckles were turning white from holding your hands together so tightly.

You didn't know whether you wanted Dean to look over at you when she planted her mouth on yours or not. Her lips were much softer and fuller than either John's or Sam's and she tasted much sweeter too, it was a nice change of pace.

She was much more pushy than what you were used to, guiding the pace and expecting you to match, and it wasn't long until the thoughts started to flood your mind.

Would Dean look over and notice? Would he be upset? Would he be excited? Would he even care? You wanted him to.

If you were supposed to be jealous that he was with another girl, you wanted him to be jealous that you were too.

Sophia's chin was smooth with no traces of stubble like you normally felt. Her hands were soft as they cupped your cheek, her teeth nibbled at your bottom lip in the softest way possible, and her smell- God, she smelt so good.

It was much different than the 3-in-1 body wash that the boys used because she smelt like she actually took care of herself. She smelled of flowers, but not like the old-lady type of perfume, she smelled soft and delicate and that was the only thing you could think of.

Sophia's fingernails lightly scraped against your cheeks when they made their way into your hair, and when you gasped she smiled into your mouth. It was evident that she knew what she was doing and you didn't think twice about letting her... whatever it led up to.

Maybe it was the thrill of being seen by Dean or the fact that it was new and exciting. Feeling soft and delicate fingers roaming through your hair was something you could get used to. Or maybe it was the alcohol, you weren't exactly sober- but you were still in the right mind to make good decisions, even if you were more inclined to try new things.

You had never been with a girl, you had never even really had friends that were girls. You weren't sure if you wanted to be her, envied that she had such confidence and charisma, or if you were actually attracted to her. She was beautiful and if you really took the time to think about it- the wetness growing in between your legs answered your question.

It wasn't long before you got lost in her trance, the quiet music almost seemed silent as you could only hear her lips moving with yours. The lights seemed to dim as your eyes stayed closed because all you did was focus on her.

Then, everything was moving so fast, one second you were in the middle of someone's living room and then you were pressed against the wall in the hallway. Your head was spinning and your neck craned upwards to kiss the lips attacking yours and when you heard him growl into your mouth, that's when you knew he had been watching for quite some time.

Dean had his hands lightly wrapped around the sides of your neck, pulling you closer to him but still pinning you against the wall with his body. Your hands gripped onto his waist, pulling him as close to you as possible, and the thoughts of Sophia quickly faded into nothing.

Dean was hungry for you, moving his lips as if he were attempting to tear them off, kissing all over your neck and not caring about whether he left marks, pushing into your body so hard that you could barely breathe.

His tongue was all over the place, your cheeks, your lips, your neck, your collarbone, your chest, and you wanted to feel it everywhere. His teeth nipped anywhere his lips went, leaving you a whimpering mess as you let him do whatever he pleased.

When Dean's lips reconnected with yours, you could taste the whiskey in his breath and smell the cologne he had doused himself in before you left the motel. Kissing him made you feel even more tipsy than before. He was more needy than Sam ever was, more attentive than John, and he seemed to be a perfect combination of all of their best qualities.

"This is wrong," Dean whispered into your mouth, but before you could question why he was all over you again.

Dean's hands trailed down your body as yours found their place in his hair, gripping lightly and pulling him in closer as he moaned into your mouth. There were practically no breaks in between each kiss, leaving the both of you panting, but neither of you seemed to care.

Dean took a step back, gripping tightly onto your waist as he pulled you closer to him and you could no longer feel the warm wall against your back.

He hadn't said any other words to you, but his actions were more than enough to tell you what he really wanted. You knew that Dean was bold, but you figured that there would be some sort of build-up for the two of you. Maybe some innocent flirting that would progress into sexual innuendos directed at one another, maybe some touching brushed off as accidental, that's what he always did with his hook-ups.

With you it was different, he skipped all of the formalities and went straight into the good part, and you didn't mind whatsoever.

But, as the touching progressed into squeezing and digging his fingers into your skin, your mind wandered to other places. Why did he say it was wrong? Were you not good enough for him? He was all over you, that couldn't be true. Was he drunk? Was that the reason that kissing you was wrong?

Maybe he meant that you were wrong for each other, John always said that this stuff shouldn't happen with anyone else. He always said that nobody could ever love you enough to touch you the way that he did. But you loved Dean and you knew that he loved you, why was he not good enough? Why was it wrong?

You hadn't even noticed someone was talking to the both of you until he pulled his lips back to mutter an answer, "I'm busy, man. Get out of here." Dean said aloud and before you had the chance to look over, his lips were on yours again and his body was pressed against you.

"Dean, what the hell are you doing? Are you even listening?" That you heard.

This time, the voice was easily recognizable, it was Sammy. Your cheeks flushed red when Dean pulled back, his eyes were wide and filled with dread to which you furrowed your eyebrows and tilted your head, asking yourself why.

"Sam, look, I- It's not what it looks like," Dean struggled to get out, letting his hands loosen around your waist and raise in the air in defense.

It was easy to tell that Dean had no idea that Sam wouldn't mind and that he was most likely trying to come up with a viable explanation for kissing you. You backed up a little, giving Sam a small smile when he looked at you, indicating that you were right about Dean.

"Dude, I'm not- um, it's just that Dad's outside and he's threatening to call the cops and we got to go," Sam replied hastily.

You smiled to yourself, knowing that Sam was most likely fighting his own arousal, but then you frowned at the thought of John. Outside. Waiting. Knowing that you were here. A party. With drugs and alcohol.

John was not going to be very happy with you and you felt your face growing pale with anxiety.

"Let's go, Y/N," Dean said gruffly, grabbing your arm tightly and dragging you through the small crowd.

You fought Dean's grip a little, dreading the thought of John being upset with you, but you let him lead you toward the front. Your head was still spinning, trying to understand how you were watching Dean with Shauna, having a conversation with Sophia, which led up to making out with her. Then you were pressed against the wall by your big brother, and now your twin was leading you outside to see your, most likely, very angry father.

When the cold, crisp air nearly froze your lungs as you stepped outside, you saw John waiting for the three of you. John was pissed, he was clenching his fists as he advanced towards all of you.

You expected him to grab you by the hair, drag you to the car, and not even let you explain yourself, but he went straight for Dean.

"What the hell were you thinking, son?!" John practically screamed, grabbing fistfuls of Dean's leather jacket.

"Dad, I-I go to parties all of the time, I don't understand," Dean gulped so hard that you could see his Adam's apple gliding up and down his throat. He was nervous, stuttering, and grabbing onto John's wrists to stop him from doing anything more than grabbing his jacket.

"Not with Y/N. Do you understand me?" John growled, letting go of the jacket and roughly pushing Dean back.

Dean stumbled, barely keeping himself standing, and you could see Dean's eyes that were filled with fear. The same expression appeared on your face when John turned his body in your direction.

"Get in the truck, I need to talk to you," John demanded, pointing his shaking finger toward you.

You gulped, much like Dean, and nodded your head, deciding that there was no point in protesting.

"Sammy, drive Dean home. No but's, Dean. Obviously, you aren't capable of good decisions, why should I let you drive my car?" John said and you turned around so quickly that you didn't have time to wait around to watch Dean's reaction.

Your feet scrambled towards the truck. When you began to climb in, you turned to close the door but John slammed it behind you, making you jump in your seat. Your eyes found the phone that was lit up on the middle seat, showing your exact location and you knew that was definitely how he found you.

Then you saw the empty bottle of whiskey and you knew it wasn't Sam's, John was drunk... again, which wasn't surprising.

You decided to look straight ahead and try your best to avoid his gaze, but you knew that something needed to be said to de-escalate your father.

"Daddy, I-" You began before being cut off immediately.

"Shut it. How long have you been partying?" John's voice boomed through the cab of the car.

You shook your head, tears freely falling down your cheeks. You hated when he was angry with you, it was the worst feeling in the world.

"I'm sorry. I convinced Dean to take me with him," You told him in a choked sob, scared of how he might react.

John furrowed his eyebrows, reaching over and gripping your chin tightly in between his fingers, the new pressure causing you to wince.

"Did you smoke tonight? You smell like you did," He asked through grit teeth and your head shook side to side as best as it could. "Did you drink?" He questioned again and you nodded your head cautiously.

You couldn't lie to him, your head was spinning.

"Are you fucking stupid, Y/N? Where was Dean?" John growled, letting go of your chin and your head felt weak.

"He was- He was with me the entire time," You struggled to get out yet again, and his jaw tensed. Your eyes traveled to his jaw, looking back up into eyes that were nearly black.

"You're lying to me. I don't like liars, Y/N," He said callously and you shook your head in defiance, he was with you for the most part- that isn't lying.

"Daddy, I'm not lying, I swear," You cried, feeling his hand in your hair as it lifted your chin toward the ceiling. His rough, calloused fingers traced over your neck, an unappreciative grunt leaving his throat.

"Who did this to you?" He growled, pinching the skin at your neck and you could feel yourself panicking.

You couldn't tell him it was Dean, he would literally kill your older brother if he knew.

"Answer me." He demanded, pinching harder and making you whimper in pain.

"A- A girl. It was a girl," You told him, the only person you could think of being Sophia.

Your eyes stayed focused on the ceiling as you felt his grip on your hair loosen, eyebrows creasing as you heard him chuckle deeply. It was the most terrifying laugh you had ever heard.

"A girl?" John asked, his breath hitting right behind your ear as he moved closer to you.

The whiskey in his breath was prominent, but it was so normal that it almost felt refreshing. You whimpered when he tugged on your hair again, resting his left hand on your thigh.

"When will you realize that you're mine, hm?" His intense growl made your breath hitch, sending shivers down your spine. "Nobody can touch you, do you understand me? I'm the only one who loves you enough, baby." He said in a softer tone, using the hand resting on your thigh to pull your legs apart from one another.

"I know," You croaked, feeling the way his fingers were rubbing circles on top of your jeans.

John's hand trailed higher, gripping tightly onto your inner thigh, "Did she touch you there, princess?" He whispered, stopping just before your heat and you felt the wetness growing in between your legs.

"No, Daddy," You answered solidly and he chuckled deeply into your ear. His hand lingered there and you moved around a bit to feel something.

"But you kissed her?" He asked, hand gripping tightly onto your thigh, and you nodded your head. "Did you want her to touch you there?" He asked, almost teasingly as his fingers magically inched up higher.

"Yes, I did. I'm sorry," You told him, sudden guilt filling your stomach.

You knew that he was the only one who loved you enough. You weren't supposed to do those kinds of things with people you didn't love. But Dean did it all the time. What made you different? Maybe he just didn't want you to- maybe this was just as wrong as kissing Dean.

"It's okay, baby, but it can't happen again. You promise?" John asked, pressing a sloppy kiss into your neck.

"I promise," You told him.

"What's wrong?" John asked, and at this point, you were squirming around in your seat. "Want me to touch you, hm?" He questioned again, ghosting his fingers above your heat through your jeans. Y

ou nodded your head, despite the tight hold he had on your hair.

"Too bad. Bad girls don't get rewarded." John teased you, chuckling lowly as his hand left your thigh.

You let out a whimper, needing now more than ever to be touched.

"But, maybe you can make it up to me." He said, placing his lips just below your ear and nipping at the skin.

You nodded your head, ready to do anything for him if it meant that you could get off tonight.

"You know what to do, don't you, baby girl?" He asked, letting go of your hair and his hands came down and thumbed his jeans open.

You gave him a small smile, letting your tears die down and dry on your cheeks, and turned towards him. He shifted his body so that his back was placed against the car door, pushing his jeans completely off, and placing one foot on the floor while the other stayed on the seat.

Normally, this would happen in the back seat, but John seemed a little too eager tonight. You took your position, lying flat on your stomach, and propping yourself on your elbows as you looked up at him through your lashes. He swiped the hair out of your face, giving you a smile, and your fingernails dipped into the waistband of his boxers.

"Wait, baby," John stopped you, holding onto your hands that were about to pull down his boxers. "I wanna try something new, is that okay?" He asks and your brows furrowed, what haven't you learned by now?

John shifted so that he was lying flat and you were sitting on top of him, not sure exactly what to do.

"I want you to suck my cock while I eat you out." He said, pushing the jacket off of your shoulders.

You wiggled it off, leaving your shirt on like he did, and his fingers came up and undid your jeans' button.

"Daddy, I thought you said-" You began to say, feeling the guilt weighing in from doing something that he disapproved of.

"I know, baby, but you know I can't stay mad at you for very long," He cut you off, shh-ing you by pulling you by your neck and bringing you into a deep and passionate kiss.

Your hips slid down his abdomen, your heat rubbing against his hard-on, making him moan into your mouth. His tongue explored and his teeth bit your bottom lip, extracting a moan of your own.

As much as you loved kissing Dean tonight, or Sammy in the showers you took, John knew everything that you liked. He knew exactly how to get you going.

"Daddy, I can't wait, I need you," You told him, desperately trying to get your release, edging yourself closer and closer as you rubbed against his erection. "I want to please you too." You compromised, knowing that he probably couldn't wait much longer either.

"Alright, Y/N, take your clothes off," He broke the kiss, pulling at the hem of your T-shirt.

You continued to sit on top of him, pulling your shirt over the top of your head and discarding it on the ground. A small moan left your lips when his hands came up to cup your breasts through your bra, kneading and massaging the delicate skin.

John's hands reached around, undoing the clasp of your simple bra and guiding the fabric down your shoulders until it was on the ground. You dipped your head down to kiss him again, relishing the way your hard nipples feel against his chest, and using your hips to grind against him again.

After a few, all too short, seconds you pulled up, working on getting your jeans off. John sat up, giving you space to do so, and discarded his own shirt, lying back down as you met him with your lips again.

His hands roamed all over your backside, squeezing your ass and rutting his hips into you which made you gasp. He was fully hard and you could tell without having to look, he was just as desperate as you were to feel something.

His hands slid down your waist, leaving goosebumps in their wake, pulling your panties down your thighs. He moaned into your mouth, presumably feeling your excitement, and helped you get your clothes off entirely.

Then, he reached down and shimmied off his own boxers, continuing to kiss you as you felt his hardened cock against your core- wishing that he would give up his stupid wish of making it perfect and fuck you already, but you'll take what you can get.

"Baby, turn around and let me taste you," John moaned into your mouth and you gave him one last peck before lifting up.

If it were any other day, you would sit on his face as he gripped your hips, but he specifically said that he wanted his dick sucked while he ate you out- and only one position made sense. You situated yourself, both knees on either side of his head and your mouth just above his cock.

You squealed when you felt his large hands pull you by your hips and guide you down to his face, the immediate lick on your clit almost enough to make you cum. You moaned as he began to attack you with his mouth and you took him in your hand, pumping him and rubbing your thumb over the precum that had already leaked out.

John hummed into your clit before wrapping his lips around it, sucking and nibbling at the nub that had been calling his name all night.

You lowered your mouth, almost unable to focus on anything other than the pleasure he was giving you, and you wrapped your lips around the glistening tip of his cock. This made him moan more into your core, encouraging you to keep doing what you're doing, so you did.

You swallowed him down as much as you could, your lips like a vacuum as you pulled up and felt him leave your mouth with a loud 'pop'.

It was almost a tradition to start out that way, taking him once entirely before sucking him down over and over until you couldn't breathe anymore. You were close to gagging, so close to almost fitting him all the way in, as your head bobbed up and down on his cock.

John was dipping his tongue inside of you, going back and forth between that and sucking your clit, occasionally making obscene noises as he kitten-licked your sweet spot over and over.

"Fuck, Y/N, you taste so good," He muttered into you, almost inaudibly, before he dove into your heat again. The praise made you want to cum all over his tongue and paint him with your juices, but even more so- it made you want to please him.

He was using his hands to spread you apart, licking the very depth of you and coercing the familiar pit in your stomach to grow. You continued to swallow him down, warm and wet sloshing noises filling up the cabin of the truck.

You could feel him twitch in your mouth, indicating that he was getting close. At the same time, his hands were pulling you closer to his face, making you wonder how the hell he was breathing. It felt like a race to see who came first.

At first, his hips slowly raised so that he filled your mouth perfectly, then, he started to go faster, fucking into your mouth as he held you down. Your lips stayed sealed around him, feeling the way he hit the back of your throat and threatened to make you gag around him.

You then gathered the courage to hold him down like he was holding you. His hips stayed glued to the seat as you held him down with your hands, sucking him down with more purpose than ever before.

His tongue was working wonders on your clit, kissing, nibbling, and sucking, and the vibrations from his groans were making your orgasm much closer. He twitched in your mouth again and you didn't dare to go up for air, you were determined to win the race.

Your hand worked whatever you couldn't fit in your mouth, your tongue focusing on the tip which made him cry into your heat.

Soon enough, he was cumming white, hot, and salty into your mouth, pleasing you so much that you came on his tongue as you ground on his mouth. Your hips were stuttering and you were practically screaming around him, feeling as your legs shook around his head. You swallowed him down, collecting all of your gift, as he continued to attack your soaking slit.

After a few minutes, you were both completely out of breath, fully dressed in the front seat, and having your after-pleasure-make-out-session. You could taste yourself on his tongue and he could taste himself on yours. Everything was perfect.

Maybe you should get in trouble more often.

"Do you really think you're ready?" John asked breathlessly, pulling back from your lips and giving you a small smile.

"I've been ready for a long time, Daddy," You gave him a smile in return, your cheeks blushing harder at the thought of finally going all the way.

•••

Next Part

•••

Tag List ❤️

@hobby27 @writethelifeyouwant @deeranger @deans-number-one-fan

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fishcowwrites · 23 days

Text

In The Stars - RedFinch Military AU

Albert DaSilva x Finch Cortes from Newsies

2.5k words cross posted on ao3 under cut

Title from the song by Benson Boone which was on repeat as I wrote this to establish ✨vibes✨

Any inaccuracies regarding military death notifications can be taken up with Fort Lee Casualty Assistance Center Casualty Notification Guide for the Casualty Notification Officer pdf from 2013 that I found online.

TW: major character death, mentions of vomiting (non graphic), mentions of self harm (not really graphic)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Albert was deployed, Finch was distraught. He didn’t want his husband to leave him, let alone leave their daughter.

“It’s just ten months. Not even a year. I’ll be back before you know.” They were both trying not to cry for the sake of Lily, who was not quite old enough to understand what was happening but not young enough to be ignorant of it all.

“Papa, what’s happening?” Albert knelt down next to her, gently taking her hands.

“I have to go, lilybug. Just for a little bit. Not a long time. I’m coming back soon, ok? Be good for your daddy.” Albert scooped her up, passing her into Finch’s arms. He hugged the two of them, then leaned in for one final kiss. “I’ll see you soon, I promise. Just ten months, yeah?” he spoke quietly, pressing his forehead against his husband’s. Finch nodded, choking back his tears.

“Just ten months.”

Then Albert was leaving, and Lily was crying, and maybe Finch was crying too, but he couldn’t tell. The rest of the day was a blur. The two of them headed back home, where Race and JoJo were waiting. JoJo took a now sleeping Lily to her bed while Race got some water for Finch.

“What if he doesn’t come back? What if I never see him again? What would I tell Lily?” Finch was hyperventilating, his hands shaking as he sobbed. Slowly, Race turned Finch towards him.

“Look at me. Look at me, Finch. Albert will be okay. It’s just ten months. He’ll be fine. I promise.” Race tilted Finch’s head up, nodding with what he hoped was a comforting smile. “Albert will be back before you know it.”

Those were the words that ran through his head when a soldier showed up at his door 7 months later.

“Daddy?” Lily called out. “There’s a man at the door.” Finch ran to the front hall.

“Lilybug, what did I tell you about answering the door? You gotta-“ He froze, taking in the crisp uniform and the stoic expression of the man who wore it. “Can I help you?” The man pursed his lips. “Are you Patrick DaSilva-Cortes?” Slowly, Finch picked up Lily, trying his best to ignore the dread creeping into his bones.

“Yeah, can I help you?”

“I am Captain Sam Robinson from Company A, 2nd Battalion, 21st Ordnance, from Stuttgart, Germany. I have an important message to deliver from the Secretary of the Army. May I come in, Mr. DaSilva-Cortes?"

Finch knew exactly what was happening. He had imagined it in his head over and over, and all the ways it could go, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the shock. It felt like he was drowning, with muffled sound and no air. All he could do was nod.

The captain stepped aside, revealing a younger man dressed in a slightly different uniform.

“This is Chaplain Steve Lewis. Is there somewhere we can sit down to talk?”

Wordlessly, Finch led them the living room, clutching Lily tightly. He moved to sit on the couch before stopping to look at the captain.

“What,” Finch closed his eyes, willing himself to stay composed. “What do I do with Lily? She can’t-“ he stopped as she looked up at him, eyes wide.

At barely three, Lily Patricia DaSilva-Cortes was shaping up to be sharper than both of her fathers. She had Albert’s flaming red hair and Finch’s love for music, as well as the penchant for mischief that both men shared. And above all, he loved her with his whole heart. How could he make her leave now?

“It’s nothing, darling. I’m staying with you.” He sat down, gesturing for the two men to do so as well. Carefully, he did his best to cover Lily’s ears before nodding for them to start.

The older one cleared his throat, looking Finch straight in the eye.

"The Secretary of the Army has asked me to express his deep regret that your husband Albert died in Germany on October 19th. His truck crashed in an accident. The Secretary extends his deepest sympathy to you and your family in your tragic loss."

That was it. Those were the words that Finch had been dreading ever since he knew Albert was going to leave. Those were the words that haunted him every day and every night as he prayed he would never have to hear them. And those were the words being said to him in the house he had built with Albert, holding the daughter they had raised together. The man was saying something that Finch couldn’t quite make out, but this couldn’t be real, it couldn’t be real, it can’t be real, and-

Finch felt something. Two tiny hands reaching for his shaking ones. That brought him back to the moment.

“Daddy, what’s this man saying? What happened? What’s happening?” Lily was on the verge of tears, her childish mind trying to find reason in the unreasonable.

“Nothing’s happened, dear. Nothing’s happened.” Finch wanted to just close his eyes and wake up from this nightmare, but he couldn’t. Not when the nightmare was simply reality.

“Why are you crying then?” She was too smart for her own good, really. He didn’t know what to say. How could he tell her?

“Sir, is there someone I can call?” The man was talking to him again. At least this was a question he could answer. Finch nodded, reaching for his phone. His contacts. Albert’s name stood there at the top, but he ignored it. Anthony Higgins. Call. There must’ve been some mercy left in the universe, as he picked up quickly.

“Yeah, Finch?”

Oh god. Race was Albert’s closest friend.

“Hello?”

What could he say? What could he possibly say in this moment?

“Are you there?”

Finally, Finch found his voice.

“I need you. At the house. JoJo too. It’s an-“ His voice caught on the last word. “It’s an emergency.”

Race must have sensed the tone of his voice, because he could immediately hear action on the other side of the phone.

“Shit, yeah. Are you okay? Is Lily okay?”

Finch nodded for a bit, until he remembered Race couldn’t see him.

“Yeah. Yeah. But, um,” Breaths. Deep breaths. He could do this. “Please hurry.” Finch could here Race calling for JoJo; they must have been at their place. He heard the rustle of their shoes, the click of the door, the beep of the car.

“The GPS says 10 minutes. Are you fine? Do we need to call someone?” Why was breathing so hard? Why couldn’t he breathe? It was Lily’s touch that kept him grounded, at least momentarily.

“No, no, 10 minutes is fine. You don’t need to call anyone. See you then.” He hung up quickly. He didn’t know how much longer he could’ve held on. Finch looked up at the man desperately, unsure of what to say next. Thankfully, he spoke up.

“We can stay with you until they arrive.” Finch nodded gratefully, running one hand through his daughter’s hair. He held her close, praying to whatever god was left that Race and JoJo would show up soon.

When they knocked on the door, the other man stood up to get it. He led Race and JoJo to where Finch and Lily were sitting. Finch could see them putting the pieces together and the shock of realization that flashed across their faces. They both turned towards the captain, gripping each other’s hands tightly. Race spoke first.

“Is Albert-“ He shook his head, unable to say those horrible words. JoJo stepped forward, holding onto Race like he was a lifeline.

“What happened?” The man turned towards Finch, seemingly asking for permission. Finch nodded, unable to see how he could tell them himself.

“The Secretary of the Army has asked me to express his deep regret that Albert died in Germany on October 19th. His truck crashed in an accident. The Secretary extends his deepest sympathy to you and your family in your tragic loss.”

Race’s mouth dropped open in horror as JoJo reached back to steady him. Carefully, he sat Race down next to Finch and took Lily out of Finch’s arms.

“Thank you…”

“Captain.”

“Well, thank you captain. Do you need anything else?” JoJo’s voice was carefully measured as he reached out to shake the man’s hand. The man turned back towards Finch, taking out a clipboard and a pen.

“Once again, you are Patrick DaSilva-Cortes?” Finch nodded numbly; he knew that this man had business he needed to do.

“This is your place of residence and your mailing address?

Another nod. Another scribble on the clipboard.

“And you phone number is xxx-xxx-xxxx?”

Finch nodded again, now desperate for the man to leave. He had put the clipboard away and taken out a paper, which he handed to Finch.

“That paper has more information, as well as the contact information for your casualty area command. A casualty assistance officer will contact you sometime in the next 24 hours to arrange another visit. Please do not make arrangements for his remains until you have been fully briefed by them.”

Casualty. Remains. All words that now described his Albert. The man stood up from his chair, taking a deep breath before addressing Finch one final time.

“Mr. DaSilva-Cortes, I must be returning to Stuttgart. Again, on behalf of the Secretary of the Army, please accept the United States Army's deepest condolences.”

Then he walked out the door, the other one trailing behind. Everything was silent. Silence. Finch hated silence. Albert always knew what to say. But Albert was gone.

Albert was gone.

“I’m just gonna, y’know.” JoJo looked calm somehow, still holding Lily. He went off to put her down.

“Finch, god, I don’t-“ Race’s mouth hung agape as he tried to find the right words, but Finch couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Albert will be okay. It’s just ten months. He will be fine. You promised me, Race! You promised he would be fine! You promised-“ Finch gasped before running into the bathroom, barely making it as he collapsed in front of the toilet. Race was on his tail, slamming against the door frame as he ran towards Finch.

“Shit shit shit shit shit. Do I need to call-Do I need to see if I can get that guy back here? Do you need like an ambulance?” Race was crying now, but his worry for Finch overtook anything else he was feeling. “I need Albert. I need Albert. I need Albert. I need-“ Finch was cut off by another round of violent heaving, gasping for air all the while. He couldn’t take it anymore. His skin felt too tight on his body, restricting his movement and not letting him breathe. He needed to tear it off, tear it off, tear IT-

Race’s hands covered his own, refusing to let him harm himself. “I’m calling someone, okay? JoJo has Lily, they’ll be fine together. This time I promise. I’m sorry I can’t-I just can’t.”

Race stepped out of the bathroom, pulling out his phone. Finch stayed there, hunched over the toilet, just crying. Eventually, he heard sirens. Voices. Hands on his body, lifting him up, placing him on something soft. Wires and cuffs and beeps and white. So much white. White sheets, white walls, white gowns, white ceilings, white floors. And pink. Pink? A flower. A lily.

“Uncle JoJo said you would like it.”

His Lily. Standing there. Scared.

“Where’s papa?”

Oh. JoJo stepped into his vision, followed closely by Race. His voice was soft, as if they were all glass that could shatter.

“We told you, honey. He’s-“ Finch could here JoJo take a deep breath, with Race saying something to him quietly.

“He’s gone, honey.”

“But when is he coming back? He said he would come back. Why won’t he come back?”

She was crying now, far too young for this tragedy. JoJo picked her up, muttering an apology as he left. Race sat down next to Finch’s bed, taking one of his hands. They stayed there for a while until a nurse came in a said that Race had to go. All the white turned to black as Finch slipped into unconsciousness.

He dreamt of Albert, sitting on the docks in Brooklyn. He dreamt of Albert, dancing in the rain. He dreamt of Albert lying in their bed, holding their daughter. Don’t go, he tried to say. Don’t leave, it’s not worth it. But Albert couldn’t hear him. More scenes of him passed by. Albert swimming, eating ice cream, watching tv, reading a book, playing with Lily at the playground. The day he asked Albert out, the day Albert proposed, the day of their wedding, the day they brought Lily home from the hospital. Their whole life together, blurred together through time. When Finch woke up, he was crying.

The funeral was hard. Hell, everything was hard. Lily was trying her best to understand, and Race and JoJo were trying their best to help them. They helped Finch tell the rest of their friends. Jack, Davey, Les, Sarah, Katherine, Crutchie, Romeo, Elmer, Buttons, Mush, Specs, Tommy, Mike, Ike, and Spot were all at the funeral. Finch tried to say something, he really did. Thankfully, Race had his back and gave the speech instead. He was glad when the whole thing was over. He just wanted to go back home.

Race and JoJo, bless them, stood by Lily and Finch for the rest of their lives. Slowly, they all learned to heal. Support groups, therapy, time. Some days were harder than others. Albert’s birthday, and their wedding anniversary. Those were days when Finch couldn’t get out of bed, days when Lily cried simply because her dad did. But time passed, no matter how slowly it did.

On Lily’s 18th birthday, there was a video. Something Finch had never thought they would have use for, but something that he had convinced Albert to make just in case. The sight of Albert’s face was enough to bring tears to their eyes, and the sound of his voice almost made Finch turn the tape off. But he didn’t.

“Hey, Lilybug. Happy 18th birthday! I hope you never have to see this, and I’m sorry if you do. I bet you’ve grown quite a lot, now! I’m sorry that I couldn’t be there today. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there every day. Hopefully, you’ve been good for Father Finch there. I wish I could see who you’ve grown up to be. I hope you know I’m proud of you, regardless of whatever has happened. I love you!”

As Albert leaned in to turn off the camera, Finch could see the tears in his eyes. He was crying now, and Lily was too. He tried to apologize, but she wouldn’t let him. As he hugged her tightly, she just whispered “Thank you.”

And 35 years later, as Finch laid in his hospital bed with his daughter by his side, all he could think about was finally seeing Albert again.

“I’ll see you soon, huh?” Finch laughed a little. “I’ll see you soon.”

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tysm for reading! hope this wasn't too shit

#albert dasilva #finch cortes #finch newsies #racetrack higgins #jojo de la guerra #jojo newsies #newsies #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #redfinch

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prentissluvr · 2 months

Note

Maybe that's a bit long. Basically, an empath is a being endowed with the power of empathy, which allows them to feel and read the emotions of another being. Here are two texts you can read to get an idea.

1: https://powerlisting.fandom.com/wiki/Empathy

2: https://powerlisting.fandom.com/wiki/Archetype:Empath

However, there is no right way to create an empath, you can follow the principle mentioned, that of creating unique abilities for the empath.

About the request:

[...] I just learned these people only raise you to cage you. [...] I just learned these people try and save you 'cause they hate you.

The reader is an empath. Crowley stole her from her family when she was little and made her believe she was his daughter, just to take advantage of her powers. The reader didn't grow up as evil as he wanted, she became sweet and kind.

[...] l.Dutiful daughter, all my plans were laid. [...] Growing up precocious sometimes means not growing up at all.

The reader meets Sam and the two feel an inexplicable connection, as if they were made for each other. It turns out that their love isn't supported by the people around them: Crowley doesn't want her to be around hunters because he's afraid she'll discover the truth. Dean doesn't trust her because she was raised by Crowley and because she's a creature they don't understand very well. They do everything they can to keep them apart and Sam and the reader have to find each other in hiding to enjoy their love.

[...] Screaming: But, daddy, I love him! [...] Thinking it can change the beat of my heart when he touches me. [...] And counteract the chemistry and undo the destiny. [...] Me and my wild boy, and all this wild joy.

Crowley discovers that they have been together for a while and traps the reader so that she never sees Sam again.

[...] and it's just my choice [...] I'm his lady.

Reader manages to escape from Crowley's hands and can finally be with Sam. They get married, with only the presence of those who supported their love (including Dean, who realized that they should be together).

(Sorry for using feminine pronouns, English isn't my first language and I'm still learning to use neutral pronouns).

I want you to feel free to add or remove details, I'm just sending you the ideas, but the magic is in your hands! I saw that you're going on vacation soon, so don't worry about how long it will take to post this, enjoy your vacation!!!

hi darling !! thanks for helping me understand the empath concept better!! i love it :)) and i love this request!! it's so creative <333 thank you for the well wishes for my vacation, i had lots of fun and loved working on this while i was relaxing <3 and no worries about the pronouns! i totally understand ^_^ here is your request, i hope that you enjoy it !! <33

#. >> asks !#. >> lovely anons !

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negative-speedforce · 5 months

Text

Ranking The Tortured Poets' Department Songs:

Complete Album Average Score: 8/10

My Score (complete album): 8.5/10

Fortnight (feat. Post Malone) 4/10. Not my thing. Didn't like that "one synth note playing in the background with almost nothing else" Skipped out towards the end because I got bored.

The Tortured Poets' Department: 6/10. Loved it. So fun! A little upbeat for a song called "The Tortured Poets' Department" though.

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys: 7/10. Gave me Reputation vibes. Reminded me of "This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things"

Down Bad: 8/10. If it was sapphic, this would be the ultimate Pippa/Onnie song, because I can't help but make things about my OCs.

So Long, London: 10/10. My favorite song on the album so far. Peak Taylor Swift in my opinion.

But Daddy I Love Him: 8.5/10. Didn't leave that much of an impression on me, but it was good. A great track to listen to while driving down the freeway.

Fresh Out The Slammer: 9/10. EVERMORE VIBES FUCK YES. This is what I was hoping for from TTPD.

Florida!!! (Feat. Florence + The Machine): 10/10. After the disappointment of the original version of Snow on the Beach, this was... everything. I love Florence + The Machine, I love this.

Guilty as Sin?: 8/10. I was originally going to rate it much lower, but the bridge managed to convince me. My religious trauma ass was like "Is Taylor Swift comparing herself to Jesus? SLAY. SLAY!!!!"

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?: 9/10. I love this. Peak Taylor Swift. The paranormal metaphors were on point, and this is definitely going on my OC Meredith's playlist.

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can): 7/10. I really liked this one, but it reminded me too much of my ex-girlfriend, so it hit a little too close to home for me to truly enjoy. Maybe in a few years, I'll be able to.

loml: 6.5/10. Far too sappy for me. Maybe if I listened to it in a more romantic mood (especially so soon after having a bad taste in my mouth from my ex), I'd like it better. Might listen again later.

I Can Do It With a Broken Heart: 8/10. So Mecore. I love the tonal dissonance of the honestly depressing lyrics and the cheery, upbeat music. I feel you, Taylor. Repressing emotions! Yay!

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived: 7/10. Despite the lower rating, I actually really liked this one. It's a biting diss track, set to relaxing piano music. What could be better?

The Alchemy: 7/10. It's cute, but didn't really stick with me. I don't really have that many thoughts about this one.

Clara Bow: 9/10. I actually really like this one. It's so peaceful, yet somewhat bittersweet. This one left me with good feelings overall.

The Black Dog: 8.5/10. The bridge is the part that really sold this for me.

imgonnagetyouback: 6/10. Idk, this one didn't really do it for me. I don't really even know why. Hypothetically, it gives off the vibes of something I'd like, but it wasn't my thing.

The Albatross: 10/10. Peak Evermore vibes. Loving it.

Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus: 9/10. I really hope this song wasn't autobiographical. It was really sad, and I'd hate for something like that to happen to anyone.

How Did It End: 10/10. Actually cried during this one. I think that explains enough.

So High School: 7.5/10. Loved the guitar on this one. It was fun, but personally, I prefer the more relaxing folksy vibes.

I Hate It Here: 8/10. "I'd say the 1830s but without all the racists And getting married off for the highest bid". Literally the best lyrics ever. Freaking hilarious, especially on such a melancholy song.

thanK you aIMee: 7.5/10. As someone who was bullied in school, this song really hit hard. Like, hell yeah, Taylor, tell her what's what.

I Look In People's Windows: 9/10. First of all, please don't, it's illegal, but I really felt this song. Loved it so much. I know it's about a relationship but let's be real the queer autistic part of me knows that "outsider looking in, longing to be part of the group".

The Prophecy: 10/10. Again, this one made me get misty. The other best track on the album.

Cassandra: 9/10. Peaceful, but with that quiet, cold rage that Taylor just manages to evoke so perfectly. So good.

Peter: 7.5/10. Ooh is this a reference to Peter Pan? The piano line kinda reminds ms me of Piano Man by Billy Joel at parts.

The Bolter: 7/10. It's good, but nothing about it really managed to stick with me.

Robin: 8/10. I only realized halfway through that that this is a song about a kid. I thought it was about her cats. Good song either way. Half a point was deducted because she hasn't written a song about her cats yet.

The Manuscript: 9/10. A great conclusion to the album! It hurt like a bitch, but I don't care!

#Taylor Swift #Revan (Taylor's Version)#the tortured poets department #ts ttpd

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caffeineghostie · 3 years

Text

Worth It - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: you and your daughter bring Bucky coffee

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Tags: dad!Bucky, fatws!Bucky, fluff, talk of pregnancies

A/N: finally posting something that has been sitting in my drafts forever, hope you like it! Not beta'd, all mistakes are mine and i'll fix them in the morning.

A/N: reposted because of issues with dumblr :)))

Masterlist

Taglist/Requests: open!

“Mommy!” your daughter greets you with a squeal when you get in her room.

"Hey sweet pea" you murmur, approaching your daughter’s crib.

The warm morning light was penetrating through the blinds of Lily’s room, caressing her soft features. She had her father’s colors, and the sunlight brought auburn highlights in her chestnut-coloured locks.

Before being captured by Hydra, Bucky had always wanted a family. He envisioned the white picket fenced life for himself, and couldn’t wait to grow old surrounded by kids. But life had very different plans for him.

After becoming the Winter Soldier, he thought he had missed his chance at being a father. After all, who would want to be with a former assassin? But then he met you.

You had helped him through his nightmares, through his belief of only being capable of violence and destruction, and showed him that there was still good residing in his heart.

When you agreed to marry him, he thought he could die of happiness. But that happiness was only a taste of what he felt when you told him you were pregnant. He was overjoyed. He went into overprotective dad mode from the start, being there with you at every appointment and not letting you lift a finger for any reason.

When Lily was born, she had her daddy wrapped around her finger from the start. Sometimes the only thing that could calm her was being in contact with Bucky’s metal arm, the cold metal soothing her every time.

Growing up, Lily had become his best friend. They spent a lot of time together because Bucky had retired from being an Avenger, now that Sam was Captain America, and they made a lot of fantastic memories.

One night, coming back home from work, you had witnessed one of these many special moments.

You could hear them chattering from the hallway, occasionally interrupted by your daughter’s laughter, and you made your way up to her room. There you found Bucky wrapped in a blanket, draped over his body mimicking a princess dress, having a tea party with Lily and your poor cat Alpine, complete with tiara and pigtails.

Noticing your arrival, Lily started running towards you.

“Mommy!”

“Hey peanut!” you took her in your arms, smothering her face with kisses. “What did you do to Daddy?” you laughed.

“She forced me!” he tried to defend himself, but even he knew that he would do anything for her. Even if it involved glitter. And lipstick. And probably scarring your cat forever.

To this day, that is one of your favourite memories, and the lock screen on your phone ever since.

Now, three years later, you found out you are expecting again. A baby boy this time. You both were elated at the news and couldn’t wait to see your little family grow.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice your daughter trying to climb out of her crib, so you scooped her up, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"Come on monkey, let's go have breakfast," you suggested, eliciting a giggle out of your daughter.

"I'm not a monkey mommy!"

"Yeah, you are, you are my tiny little monkey. " You filled her face with kisses, making her giggle more.

In the kitchen, you sat her at her usual seat, and prepared her favorite cereal in her usual bowl - rigorously pink. You started busying yourself brewing some coffee for Bucky, knowing he would get up soon, even if it was a Sunday morning.

"Mommy?" your daughter asked, while munching on her breakfast.

"Yes, honey?"

"When is Daddy waking up?"

“I don’t know baby, I think Daddy’s pretty tired” that was true. You two had been busy until pretty late last night.

"We can bring him coffee! He's going to have a lot of energy and then he can play with me!" she exclaimed.

"That is a fantastic idea, bug!" you exclaim. "You want to help me?"

"Yes!" she squeals, excited. She’s always eager to spend time with Bucky, and she has him wrapped around her tiny finger. She just needs to bat her eyelashes and her dad would burn the world for her.

"Let's go mommy!" she called to you, pulling on your pyjama pants.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." You took the warm mug in your hands, the aroma of coffee filling your nose, and set off for the bedroom.

A gentle knock on the door later, she's peeping her head in your and Bucky’s bedroom. You could hear the tiny pattering of her feet on the parquet, right before seeing her launch herself on your king sized bed, squealing in excitement.

Bucky pretended to still be asleep. He couldn't possibly not be awake with her tiny fingers poking his nose repeatedly.

"Daddyyyy, daddy wake uuuup" she whined, balancing herself on his chest.

"Honey, maybe Daddy needs a kiss like the princess in the movie we saw yesterday," you suggested, seeing that Bucky was also struggling to keep his facade up with all that tickling.

"Like Aurora?" she asked, giggling before leaving a soft kiss on Bucky's nose.

Magically, Bucky suddenly woke up, surprising Lily.

"Thank you, you my sweet princess! You saved me from the spell that the evil queen," he smiled at you, "cast on me last night. How could I ever repay you?"

"We made you coffee, daddy" you butted in, sitting on the bed

"it was my idea!" Lily said proudly, passing him the mug you handed her, and she promptly gave it to Bucky.

You observed your husband as he sipped his coffee, before putting the mug on his nightstand and hugging your daughter tightly and snuggling his face into her neck.

“Thank you, sweet pea,” he says, “that was the best coffee I’ve ever had!”

“Mommy helped me,” she admitted laughing, Bucky’s beard tickled her.

“Oh yes? Well then,” he says turning to you “Thank you mommy” he adds, giving you a peck on the cheek.

“And thank you baby” he murmurs against your belly, gently caressing it.

Looking at the little family he created with you, Bucky couldn’t help but smile, his happiness tugging his heartstrings. He could have sworn he was the luckiest man alive, finally at peace. Everything that he went through was definitely worth it.

And he was more than willing to discover what more life had to throw at him.

-----

comments and reblogs are appreciated!

taglist:

@amelia-song-pond @millennial-teenybopper @natlovesu @brooke-supernatural16 @stressydepressyandlemonzesty

Everything

Everything Bucky:

@bbl32 @brooke-supernatural16 @justreadingficsdontmindme @leyannrae @iwannabekilledtwice @onyourgoddamnleft @itsthemaree

if you're striked it means that dumblr won't let me tag you

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader fluff #bucky x you fluff #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes one shot #marvel fanfiction #bucky fluff #bucky x reader smut #bucky x reader angst

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shitty-marvel-fan732 · 4 years

Note

Hi can I request a peter parker x barnes-Rogers reader (steve and Bucky's daughter) and me and Peter find out I'm pregnant with Peter's baby and we try to keep it a secret but everyone is suspicious of us cause I've been really poorly lately and Peter is being overprotective and one day Peter accidentally says "don't do that it could hurt the baby" or "and everyone freaks out and me, Peter and my dads have a long talk but everything is fine thanks xx

Unexpected

Pairing: Peter Parker x Barnes-Rogers! Reader

Requested?: Yes!

Word count: Almost 7k

Warnings: Pregnancy, some angst but thats it I think?

Author's Note: Yessssss this was so fun to write! Very excited to be back to posting on this page again. Thank you so much for the request! Hope to start adding in more content soon, so if yall have any requests feel free to send them in! And if you have requests sent in already, know that I love you and I will be getting to clearing out my inbox here pretty soon 🥰

Taglist: @just-that-bi-girl , @winterfrostsarmy

---------------------------

In retrospect, the entire team should have realized what was going on with you a lot sooner. To their credit, most of them had noticed that something was different about you, but other than Nat and Wanda none of them had a guess as to what exactly that was.

The men appeared completely clueless in respect to the cause of the recent changes in you. Even Clint, a married father of three, hadn't caught on even after he'd seen you leaving the bathroom having clearly just thrown up. Tony had been the closest to figuring it out of the all men, having noticed your odd mood swings and crying fits as they became more and more frequent. He noted the same behavioral pattern as he'd found himself stuck in after the Battle of New York, and secretly worried for your mental well-being. He hadn't felt comfortable enough to broach the topic with you just yet though, instead opting to watch you from a distance for the time being.

The women, however, seemed to understand almost instantly what was going on. Nat had figured things out once she realized that you had been skipping training lately and noticed that you and Peter barely appeared to leave one another's sides for even a moment. Wanda based her guess almost solely upon the fact that she could just feel that something was different about you; your entire energy had changed in the last few weeks and she noted it even before Peter had. Both women had their suspicions, but had seemingly agreed to keep their thoughts to themselves until you were ready to tell the team what was going on.

Your dads were a different story altogether.

It took Steve and Bucky much longer to notice something had changed with their daughter, Steve longest of all. Either you'd done a great job of avoiding your Pops or he'd been incredibly unobservant (or more likely both), but he hadn't seen anything that he would've considered out of the ordinary for you.

That is, until today.

"AAAAUUUUUUGGGGH"

Steve was on his feet in an instant, sprinting into the kitchen at the sound of your enraged scream. He skidded to a stop and surveyed the room with a trained look for the source of danger, but found none. In fact, you and Sam were the only two in the space as far as he could tell. Sam's back was pressed snugly against the furthermore countertop as you practically cornered him, the older man clearly caught off guard by your sudden burst of rage. You flung your hands around wildly as you yelled, one gripping a box so tightly that your knuckles were beginning to turn a concerning shade of white.

Completely bewildered, Steve watched in stunned silence for moment as you fumed and screamed expletives at the slightly-terrified looking Sam, without any clear indication as to what had happened.

"I CANNOT FUCKING BELIEVE YOU, YOU GODDAMNED ASSHO-"

"Y/N Barnes-Rodgers!" Steve scolded you finally, momentarily stopping your verbal assault. "What in God's name is going on here?"

Your eyes turned to your Pops' briefly before flickering back to glare in Sam's direction.

"Pigeon-brain ate the last of my oreos," you seethed, walking forward and jabbing an accusatory finger to Sam's chest, his hands instantly flying upwards in surrender.

Steve felt his jaw drop in utter disbelief.

“You-,”

“What’s with all the commotion in here?” Bucky interrupted, striding into the kitchen much as Steve had moments ago and joining his husband's side with a confused look on his face. Steve crossed his arms and frowned at their daughter.

“Apparently our daughter is screaming at Sam because he ate her cookies.” your Pops explained tersely.

“Not cookies, oreos,” you muttered, glare never wavering from Sam. You furiously threw the offending empty package roughly at his still bewildered face in lieu of another expletive. Sam was evidently so bewildered, in fact, that he didn't even flinch as the box hit his head and bounced pathetically to the floor.��

Bucky raised his eyebrow.

“And that’s why you’ve been screaming like that?” he confirmed. You nodded, arms crossing your chest stubbornly.

Bucky shrugged, looking towards his husband with a look of indifference. “Makes sense.”

“No, it absolutely does not make sense,” Steve lightly scolded, glancing at Bucky with a pointed look before returning his gaze to you. “Y/N you’re completely overreacting. Apologise to Sam right now.”

Your mouth dropped open, and you gaped at your dads with an expression that was equal parts betrayal and rage.

“No.”

“No?” Steve repeated incredulously. He stared at you with disbelief, looking between you and Bucky like he was hoping he’d somehow misheard you. You met his glance with an equally stubborn look as you planted your feet solidly beneath you and tightened the cross of your arms. “What do you mean, no?”

“You heard me,” you spat, unwavering.

Sam merely looked confused as he watched the two of you argue, if albeit still a bit scared, but Bucky was sure his shock was evident on his face. You never back-sassed your Pops, not even when you were really angry, and Bucky only felt his disbelief grow at the prospect that your attitude was all due to a few cookies.

"Y/N, you don't get to tell me no," Steve ground out carefully, voice stern with a rare sort of parental authority he seldom had to use with you. In fact, Bucky was pretty sure he hadn't actually heard him use this particular tone since way back when you were a toddler testing the limits of your dads' patience. But unlike your three-year-old self, you didn't back down at your Pops' disapproving tone; in fact, you met his intense stare with a flippant roll of your eyes, deepening your dad's shock at your abrupt behavioral shift.

"He fucking knows what he did, everyone knows those oreos are mine," you snapped, eyes alight with a kind of fury the likes of which your dads had never seen from you before.

"Language!" Steve gasped at his daughter, his authoritative tone giving way to a spluttering one of complete disbelief.

"FUCK OFF!" you shouted instantly.

"HEY!"

Bucky had officially had enough. Irritation blossomed deep within his chest at the hurt he saw wash through his husband's eyes at your vulgar screech. Teenaged angst was one thing, but it was entirely another to blatantly disrespect Steve like you were. He still didn't know what was really causing you to act like this--because no way in hell could this be all over some oreos-- but he'd definitely passed the point where he even cared.

"Doll, that’s enough. Clearly you're upset, but you cannot speak to your Pops like that," he practically growled. You turned your attention to your dad with the same kind of indignant irritation in your eyes, a flash of fresh anger rolling across your face at the sight of Bucky's equally irate expression.

"You can fuck off too," you spat.

Bucky's jaw clenched dangerously, the muscle in his cheek jumping and twitching as he took in his daughter's crass retort. Sam had long since left the scene, the nearly suffocating tension officially too much for him to take. Steve's eyes went wide for what felt like the millionth time since he'd first walked into the kitchen. If he hadn't known something was wrong before, he undoubtedly did now.

You may not disobey him often, but you never snapped at Bucky.

Steve had long since accepted that, though you loved the two of them the same, you'd always liked Bucky more. A daddy's girl from birth, you and Bucky had always been inseparable-- so for you to now scream and curse at him like this was like a flaming-red flag in Steve's mind.

Something was definitely wrong.

"Excuse me?" Bucky hissed. The two of you faced one another, arms crossed and expressions grim. You planted your feet even more solidly underneath you, staring your dad down with a fury so intense it was almost palpable. If it weren't for the overall tension of the situation, Steve might've teased the two of you for your near-mirrored positions.

"Y/N? What's going on, I thought I heard yelling?" Peter asked as he practically skidded into the kitchen. He immediately joined you, face morphing into a look of utter concern at the sight of yours and Bucky's standoff. Steve braced himself, mentally apologizing to Peter for the verbal assault that was surely coming his way.

But it never came.

It was as if all the unwarranted anger was sucked from your body in a rush as soon as you caught sight of your boyfriend. Your face crumpled into an anguished expression, and Steve could see how the tears welled up in your eyes instantaneously. Peter clicked his tongue in pity and you thrust yourself instantly into his awaiting arms. He gripped you tightly, and you eagerly buried yourself further into his embrace. Face smashed tightly against his chest, you began to sob uncontrollably.

Your dads gaped at the scene, wide-eyed.

"S-sam ate my oreos a-and now everyone's mad at me, and I j-just wanted my snack!" you all but wailed, voice muffled by Peter's body.

Bucky blinked once as he turned to his husband, total confusion written all over his features. Steve just gaped in response, unable to formulate a semi-coherent thought, let alone words.

"Oh angel, it's okay," Peter cooed softly into your hair, hands rubbing up and down your back soothingly as you continued to cry. "I can go and get you more oreos; don't cry Y/N/N, I'll just run down to the store right now to get you some."

Lifting your head from his chest, you seemed slightly placated and hopeful as you sniffled and looked up at him.

"C-can I come with you?" you asked him shyly, tear-stained cheeks turning a slight shade of pink at your childish request. Peter smiled fondly down at you, clearly happy to see that you were feeling better.

"Of course, it'll be nice to walk with you," he smiled sweetly at you and lightly kissed your nose. You giggled as you removed yourself from his embrace before walking over to your dads.

"M'sorry I shouted daddys. Love you guys!" you apologized in a chipper voice before kissing both of the men's bewildered cheeks.

The two supersoldiers both stood in stunned silence as they watched you leave hand in hand with Peter, who briefly shot them an apologetic look before the pair were gone. Steve thought he heard Peter mumbling something to Y/N as they left, but the only words he could pick out were "not good to get so worked up", which only confused him further.

"What in the hell was that?" Bucky grumbled, face still crinkled with bewilderment. Steve simply shook his head.

"I have absolutely no idea. I've never seen her behave like that, have you?"

"Nothing like that, but she was acting funny the other day too," he frowned, recalling the scene he'd walked in on just a few days prior. "She was full out sobbing on the couch a few days ago over a toilet paper commercial."

Steve gaped at his husband.

"Sh-she...what?"

"Doll have you seen your Pops? I can't find him any-"

Bucky's question died in his throat as soon as he hit the threshold of the TV room. You were curled up on the couch, arms wrapped around your knees as sobs racked through you. Peter sat next to you with his eyes crinkled in concern and hands rubbing gently at your shoulders as you cried.

"Y/N what's wrong, why are you crying?" Bucky asked. Feeling his protective instincts kick in instantly, he couldn't help but search the room with his eyes in search of any danger. Finding nothing, he narrowed his eyes at your boyfriend.

"Did he do something?" Bucky demanded. "Parker I swear to God if you hurt her I-"

"What? N-no I didn't do anything Mr. Bucky I swear!" Peter spluttered, eyes widening in fear at the terrifying look in your dad's eyes.

"Bullshit, then why's she crying like that? Of course you did someth-"

"N-no it's not P-peter dad!" you interrupted tearfully. "There was an ad on TV that just made me emotional okay? You know, the one with the boy crying in the bathroom and his dad offers him toilet paper for his tears?"

There was a beat of silence.

"Doll, you really mean to tell me that you're sobbing over a toilet paper ad?" Bucky asked, brows furrowed in disbelief. You sniffled as you nodded, and fresh tears began to pick your eyes once more.

"Yes! I mean it's just so inspiring," you blubbered. "I mean how often do you actually get to see a teenaged boy cry on TV? Never, cause toxic masculinity standards in this stupid patriarchal society we all live in say otherwise! And not only does the dad accept that his son is crying and is allowed to feel real emotions, he sits down to talk with him about them! I just got so happy thinking about all the little boys who will see this ad and feel the validation that they're normal for feeling sad every once in a while!"

Bucky just stared at his daughter with a blank look for a moment; he looked like he was unable to formulate a single response to the information he'd just been given.

"Well that's...uh….that's great I gue-"

"I can't believe you would just assume that me crying just had to be because of something Peter did," you interrupted, angrily brushing the leftover tears from your face. "It's so unfair, you always blame him for everything!"

"I-uh," Bucky stammered, flustered by the sudden change in your emotions. You scoffed and stood quickly from your spot in Peter's embrace, crossing your arms petulantly.

"It's true dad, you're always looking for something to yell at him for! It's so biased and unfair," you practically yelled. "Honestly it's such prejudiced bullshit. Some kind of outdated 'lock up your daughters' rhetoric that I can't believe yo…"

At some point during your impassioned speech you began stomping away from both your dad and Peter while still ranting. As your shouts became fainter and fainter Bucky found himself directing his dumbfounded expression at Peter instead. In a rare show of solidarity with your boyfriend, Bucky silently begged for an explanation as to what on earth had just happened.

Despite the way his heart was hammering wildly in his chest Peter remained silent. He offered only a passive shrug to your dad before he clambered to his feet and began following after you. If Bucky hadn't been caught so off guard he surely would've been suspicious at the visible sweat that was beading on Peter's forehead and the way the young boy's hands trembled as he quickly left the room, the question of what was causing your mood swings laying thickly unanswered in the air.

"What the fu-"

"She...a toilet paper ad? Really?"

"Yep, a friggin' toilet paper commercial," Bucky nodded solemnly. Steve blinked once, shaking his head.

"So what did you do?" he asked incredulously.

"Nothin'," Bucky shrugged. "She was so damned worked up that I figured she needed some space, and by the time I went to talk to her she'd already seemed completely fine. Thought it wasn't worth upsetting her all over again."

Steve snorted.

"Yeah right, you were just too scared you would make her mad again," he chuckled.

"Hell yeah I was," Bucky admitted freely, crossing his arms and shooting his husband a defiant expression. "You've seen her, you know how terrifying she can be when she's pissed!"

Steve chuckled once more, shaking his head fondly.

"Mmmm, and I wonder where she got that from."

Bucky narrowed his eyes and scowled at the implication, a surly look overtaking his features. Steve couldn't help but laugh outright at the expression on his husband's face; it was the exact same face you always made when you were annoyed, right down to the little pout in your lip.

"For the last time Stevie, she doesn't get that from me," he grumbled.

"Sure Buck, whatever you say," Steve laughed.

Though your odd behavior and mood swings were at least now on both your dads' radar, neither had any clue as to the actual reason for your sudden changes. The pair of them chalked up the incidents to little more than teenaged angst, however they had no idea how wrong they were nor just how soon they were about to find out what was really going on.

---------------------------

"I don't understand Y/N," Steve stated carefully. "Why exactly don't you want to go with the team?"

You shifted your weight from foot to foot anxiously, huffing out a breath in mock annoyance and very real frustration.

You'd been in the training room, lightly working out with Nat and Wanda when your Pops and Tony had walked in to announce that there was an urgent mission that apparently would require the entire team. Internally cursing your timing, you'd tried to sneak out of the room unnoticed, but as your luck would have it, your dad caught you. Now you were stuck arguing with your dads, the attention and curiosity of everyone in the gym directed at you.

Your heart was thrumming wildly in your chest as you furiously racked your brain for some way, any way, out of this assignment and this conversation without an actual reason.

Well, a reason you were actually willing to give, that is.

"Why does it even matter?" you snapped, hoping that no one clocked the tremor in your voice. "It's not like you guys even need me anyways."

"Doll, you always jump at the chance to come with us," your dad interjected. "So what's so different about today?"

"I just don't want to," you whined, lying through your teeth. "I'm tired and I don't feel good."

"But you were literally just training?" Sam pointed out. You narrowed your eyes at him, irritation bubbling under the surface of your anxiety at the contradiction. The older man shrank back a bit under your firey gaze, the previous incident in the kitchen clearly prominent in his mind as he stepped behind Wanda.

Clint snorted.

"If you could even call that training," he mumbled under his breath. Your jaw dropped.

"What is this, gang up on Y/N day?!" you sassed as your arms flew to cross your chest defensively. Your Pops shook his head.

"We're just worried Y/N/N," he reassured, brows furrowed with concern. "You've been behaving very strangely lately, and this is just one more thing."

"Yeah doll," Bucky nodded, agreeing with his husband. "So what gives?"

Your pulse sped up once more at the direct question, a sickening feeling rising in your throat like bile at the realization of just how suspicious your dads were. Unable to think clearly through your panic, you did the only thing you could think of.

You scoffed in fake disbelief, rolled your eyes, and began stomping out of the room.

"Y/N Barnes-Rodgers!" your dad shouted in an indignant and angered tone. "We are not done talking about this!"

Damn.

"What?!" you whirled around, stomping your foot like a child. "I just don't want to go this time okay?"

Bucky's face turned red at your open defiance, but Steve interrupted before he could even open his mouth to snap back at you.

"No Y/N it's absolutely not okay," he scolded. You felt the burn of unshed tears prick your eyes as they searched desperately around the room, mind racing to think of an excuse that would get you out of this situation.

"But-"

"No, no buts Y/N," your dad barked, clearly having composed himself enough to speak once more. His arms were crossed as he glared at you, and the stubbornly annoyed look on his face was enough to make the tears in your eyes begin to fall. A feeling of utter entrapment and fear settled in your chest like a suffocating weight as you felt the hot, fresh tears stream down your cheeks.

"Doll, are you crying?" your Pops questioned incredulously. "What on earth is going on with you?"

"Nothing! I just can't go today," you blubbered, past the point of being able to hold back your sobs.

"You can't go, or you won't go?" Bucky asked pointedly, evidently not swayed by your tears.

"It doesn't matter," you cried desperately. Your dad's eyes bored into yours directly as if he was searching your brain to find out what you were holding back from him.

"It clearly does matter, otherwise you wouldn't be acting like this," he continued harshly. "I'm not sure what it is you aren't telling us, but I don't even care at this point. Stark said he needs everyone and your Pops told you to go, so you need to get yourself together and go and get ready."

The tears were now cascading down your face in giant streams and your face was growing warmer by the second. You darted your gaze back and forth between the other team members' faces, still searching for some kind of last minute way out of this situation. Finding only curious or concerned expressions, you turned back to your dads with wide eyes. You felt your mouth go dry as your lips open and closed wordlessly, the severity of your current predicament weighing you down more and more by the second.

"I-"

"No. I don't want to hear another word from you Y/N," your dad snapped. "Go and get ready for the mission now."

"But she can't go!"

Time stopped for a split second as the entire room's heads snapped towards the desperate shout.

Peter had only just entered the training room, wondering where everyone was, when he caught the tail end of your dad's order. He couldn't help but blurt the first thing that'd come to mind, the implication of which only dawned on him afterwards. As he rushed to your side he shot you a sheepish look, and you internally cringed a bit at his slip.

Even though you were certain Peter's involvement would only further reduce your already slim chances of getting out of this mission without a full confession of what was really going on, you couldn't help but feel an inkling of relief as his eyes locked with yours. His hand immediately intertwined itself with yours once he'd reached you, and your belly fluttered with a warm tinge of comfort with the simple touch.

True, things were probably about to go sideways for the both of you, but at least Peter was here to go through it by your side.

"Excuse me Parker?" your dad spat incredulously, eyes blazing with anger at your boyfriend's outburst. "I don't recall asking you for your opinion on my daughter or what she can or can't do."

Peter stood a little taller as he looked Bucky straight in the eyes with an unprecedented amount of determination.

"She can't go." he practically growled, eyes stern and unyielding as he openly defied your dad. He was standing a half-step in front of you, tense back partially shielding you from the rest of the team as he spoke.

Even with his face turned the opposite direction you could see from his profile the way his brows were furrowed and how dark his normally chocolate brown eyes had gotten. You felt a slight shiver run up your spine at the fiercely protective energy Peter was radiating, and your heart felt a bit lighter at the way he stood up to your dad on your behalf. You squeezed his hand in an effort to ground him, and he softened marginally as he glanced back at you.

Your dad however looked as if he might combust soon based on the way his eyes bulged out and his face turned a concerning shade of red.

"What's that supposed to mean Peter?" Steve interjected carefully, his hand reaching up to rest comfortingly on his husband's shoulder.

"It means exactly what we said," Peter said firmly. "Y/N cannot go on this mission today."

The team watched the interaction between you, Peter, and your dads with their heads bouncing back and forth between the four of you like they were watching a tennis match. Not a word had been uttered from a single one of them, and yet they stood completely transfixed as they waited patiently to see the outcome of the argument.

"And why, pray tell, is that Parker?" your dad hissed, scowl etched across his features.

Peter's eyes traveled to yours, irises swimming with a silent question. Realizing that there was no way out, you took a steadying breath as you nodded softly and squeezed his hand once more in reassurance. Peter smiled at you fondly before dropping his smile and turning back to your parents.

"She can't go because...it could be bad for the baby."

You could've heard a pin drop in the training room. No one made a sound, no one even dared to breathe. The shock in the room was palpable, but you couldn't be bothered to even glance at anyone other than your dads, their reactions the only two that mattered to you in this moment.

Though you'd expected a rather explosive reaction from your parents (especially from your dad), you were met instead with blank stares. Your dads were simply staring at you and Peter in stunned silence, and their lack of a response actually frightened you more than the screaming you'd been anticipating for weeks now. The beat of silence seemed to stretch on eternally, though in reality it was probably no more than thirty seconds. You watched nervously, your hand becoming sweaty in Peter's as you waited. Finally, your Pops blinked and opened his mouth cautiously.

"Bad for the wha-"

"I SWEAR TO GOD PARKER THAT'D BETTER BE SOME KIND OF DISGUSTING PET NAME FOR MY DAUGHTER."

Ahhh. There it was.

Your dad had clearly broken through his frozen thoughts enough to respond, and you would've laughed if you weren't so terrified. He looked positively furious; his eyes were darker than you'd ever seen them and his face had darkened from red to an almost purple color that looked painful to say the least. His murderous gaze was hyper-fixated on Peter, and you couldn't help but step in front of your poor boyfriend in an effort to take some of the heat off him.

Peter, evidently, was having none of that, and he frowned before pulling you backwards and tucking you into his side tightly. If you hadn't been so focused on your dad right now you might've rolled your eyes at his over-protectiveness. Instead you allowed yourself the comfort of his embrace as you took a steadying breath.

"It's not," you responded as calmly as you could manage while your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your throat. "I'm pregnant."

Silence enveloped the room once more, and you could've sworn it was even more awkward than the first time. It must've been, because you could see Nat and Wanda ushering the rest of the team out of the gym out of the corner of your eye. You weren't quite sure if you were grateful for the privacy or more scared of how your dads would react now that you were alone.

Your dads stared at you and Peter with wildly different expressions. Steve was staring off into space and looking as if he was either going to throw up or pass out soon, and Bucky still looked as if he was about a half a second away from murdering Peter with his bare hands. To his credit, Peter was still standing by your side with the same look of determination as before despite this, but you could feel the way his pulse was hammering through his veins as he too carefully surveyed your dads' reactions.

You stood quietly, trying to be patient as you watched them, but the suspense and anticipation quickly became overwhelming and you couldn't help but blurt,

"Say something!"

Though both their gazes snapped up to your face with your plea, yet neither your dad nor you Pops said anything. You were suddenly overcome with the urge to explain yourself.

"I know that you're probably in shock or angry or maybe both- and honestly that's completely fair!" You rambled breathlessly. "I know we're still only eighteen, but I really think everything's gonna be okay? Really, I do. And I'm so sorry about today, believe me this isn't how we planned on telling you at all bu-"

"You're not coming on the mission," Steve interrupted, his voice completely devoid of emotion. "Nor is Peter. Your dad and I will be back later, and we're all going to have a long discussion."

It felt like all the air was sucked out of your body as you watched your Pops pull your dad towards the training room exit. You hadn't been fully sure of just how you were going to tell them, but never in your wildest dreams did you imagine that it would come out like this. Tears once more welling up in your eyes, your heart sank as you realized just how disappointed and angry they were.

"I love you," your voice cracked as you called to their retreating forms, unable to bear the sight of them leaving without reminding them. They both paused in the doorway, and without turning back both muttered that they loved you too before they were gone.

As soon as they left you immediately twisted yourself and thrust your face into Peter's chest, the tears flowing steadily as you sobbed. He wrapped his arms tightly around your shaking form, lips finding the crown of your head and hands rubbing soothingly across your back.

"Th-they hate me now," you whispered brokenly into Peter's soft hoodie in between sobs. "They hate me Pete, they're n-never going to forgive me for this!"

Peter shushed you quietly, gentle lips kissing your hair as he began to sway you back and forth slowly.

"They don't hate you angel," he soothed. "They're just surprised. Disappointed in the timing maybe, but they'll get over it. I promise."

"I never wanted it to go like this," you cried as you pulled your head from his chest slightly. Peter's hands left your back for a moment to come and rest on either of your cheeks. He leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead before retreating upwards to look deep into your eyes.

"I know you didn't sweet girl, but it did," he said gently as he brushed away some of your tears with the pads of his thumbs. "It did and it's going to be okay. We'll talk to your dads when they get back and clear everything up. And no matter what, you and I are going to get through this together, okay?"

You sniffled softly, nodding sadly. Peter's eyes were swimming with guilt and dejection at the sight of the empty expression on your face. He didn't know how to comfort you in this situation, but it was like every molecule in his body was demanding he do so. He leaned down once more to press a loving kiss to your forehead, then your cheeks, your nose, and finally your lips.

You sighed, head retreating back to his chest once your lips disconnected. Sadness was still swirling in your stomach and you just longed for the feeling that being in Peter's arms brought. He seemed to understand perfectly- as he always did- pressing his cheek to the top of your head and wrapping his arms tightly around you without a word. The two of you stood there for a while, bodies entangled as you continued lightly swaying back and forth. Peter's hands continued to roam up and down your spine and your tears began to slow and dry.

Eventually you hummed, stepping back and up on your toes to press an appreciative kiss to Peter's face. He smiled as a faint pink tinted his cheeks at your display of affection. You giggled, slightly amazed that even after everything you two had done, something as simple as a peck on the cheek could still make him blush.

"Thank you," you said quietly, looking up into his eyes. He quirked an eyebrow at you in confusion.

"For staying with me through all that. I mean it's you, so I wasn't really worried...but my dad can be really frightening. So thanks," you half joked.

Peter chuckled lightly as he pulled you back into his arms once more.

"Of course angel. Told you, I'm never going to leave you. Even if your dad is super scary. You two are stuck with me now. I'm never ever going to leave you or our baby," he vowed quietly into your hair as his hands reached down to rub the small but growing bump in your tummy lovingly. "We're gonna get through this all together, as a family."

You felt tears well up in your eyes once more, but this time out of sheer love and happiness.

Damned hormones.

"You're gonna be such a good daddy Peter," you whispered gratefully. Hearing the slight crack in your voice, Peter pulled you away from his chest gently to wipe your tear stained cheeks once more.

"Hey now, no more tears today," he scolded playfully as he tugged you across the room. "When's the last time you ate something? We have the whole kitchen to ourselves now, and I bet my babies are hungry!"

You chuckled lightly as you allowed him to pull you along with him towards the kitchen. All the while, he chattered happily about the new article he'd just read about the specific nutritional needs pregnant women have, and your heart swelled at his thoughtfulness. You were still apprehensive about the upcoming conversation with your dads, but you were definitely feeling better. As much as their approval and involvement would mean to you, you'd come to the conclusion that as long as you had Peter by your side everything would work out alright.

Somehow.

---------------------------

"Petey, are you sure you don't need any-"

"No! Nope. I've got this," your boyfriend interrupted stubbornly. You signed, hand absentmindedly rubbing across your swollen stomach as you watched him struggle with the latch on the new crib the two of you were setting up.

Well, the crib that Peter was setting up.

It'd been a few months since the team had found out about the newest upcoming addition to the Tower, and you'd decided that it was time to begin decorating the nursery. Tony, of course, had offered to have someone come in to do all the heavy lifting, but Peter was insistent that he be the one to set everything up. His protectiveness over you and the rapidly growing child you were carrying had only increased as the months went on, so much so that you were lucky now if he'd even let you stand for long enough to watch him put the baby's furniture together. It was endearing, really, how much he cared for the two of you, but you'd be lying if you said that you weren't becoming a little frustrated with how little you could do to help.

"Really Peter, I can help," you grumbled, annoyed. "I'm pregnant, not disabled."

"Of course you could help angel, but I don't need help," he grunted, eyes never leaving the mass of parts around him. "You already have to do all the work of growing and housing our baby, the least I can do is build the crib!"

"Housing?" you teased, quirking an eyebrow.

"You know what I meant," he grumbled, and you couldn't help but chuckle at his growing frustration.

Peter was clearly losing his grip just a bit as he struggled to make sense of the instructions that had been provided with the pieces. He sighed, throwing the pamphlet down on the ground before trudging over to where you stood, leaning against the changing table that he'd put together a few days ago.

"I've engineered web-fluid from absolutely nothing, re-built computers from scratch and yet I can't even manage to put this stupid bed together," he whined as he dropped his head down onto your shoulder in defeat. "M'gonna be a terrible father."

"Ohhh bubs," you cooed sympathetically, smile falling quickly and heart lurching at the tone of pure dejection in his voice.

You wrapped your arms around him, one snaking around his back and the other cradling his head. Your fingers began instantly carding through his chocolate-brown locks as he nuzzled his nose lightly into the junction of your neck and shoulder. His hands wound their way around your waist too- or as well as they could with your round tummy in the way- and his own hands began absentmindedly tracing patterns over your bump.

"Peter you have to know that isn't true," you soothed, kissing his cheek softly. "You're going to be an amazing dad."

He hummed non-commitally.

"You think you're not?" you challenged, fingers halting their dance against his scalp. "Do the thing."

He raised his head from your shoulder, brows furrowed in confusion.

"What does that have to do with-"

"Do the thing," you interrupted sternly. He sighed and knelt down, grumbling inaudible complaints as he went. Once he was face to face with your bump he placed his hands on either side, thumbs rubbing soft circles into your stretched-out skin.

"Hi baby, it's me, your daddy," he spoke softly into your stomach, lips so close that you shivered with each breath that ghosted over your clothed belly. "I love you so much."

The baby responded instantly at the sound of Peter's voice, feet jabbing out and kicking excitedly from within just underneath where his hands lay. You felt your heart skip a beat at both the feeling the movement in your belly and the sight of the dopey smile that lit up Peter's handsome face as he felt his child's kicks. You rubbed over his hands lovingly and smiled down at him.

"See bubs? He starts throwing a party in there every time you do that. He loves you so much already, that's not gonna change," you reassured him softly. Peter's smile dropped just a little.

"But the crib-"

"Fuck the crib," you responded stubbornly. "You are the most caring, sweetest, and most thoughtful person I know Peter. You're going to be the world's best dad."

"Whoa whoa, believe we're the ones with the mugs that claim that title," a voice chuckled from the doorway.

You smiled fondly, eyes darting to find the sight of your Pops leaning casually against the frame of the door with your dad standing just behind him. Both had amused smiles on their faces, and you grinned widely. Even Peter smiled as he rose to his feet and wrapped one of his arms around your back to pull you into his side.

"Okay, third best dad in the world then," you amended, grinning.

"That's better," your dad piped up, smiling. "Now what's this I hear about a faulty crib? Sam said he can hear Peter cursing all the way from his room."

Peter groaned, tilting his head backwards in exasperation as you laughed out loud.

"It isn't faulty, I'm just an idiot," Peter grumbled. Everyone but him chuckled, and your dad walked further into the room. He clapped a hand on Peter's back as he grinned at the younger man.

"Normally I'd agree with you, but I know if I do Steve will bring up how Y/N had to sleep in the bassinet for like 6 months because we couldn't figure out how to put her crib together."

"You mean you couldn't figure it out," your Pops snorted from his place in the doorway. "As I recall, I was not allowed to help with the furniture because you were determined to figure it out on your own."

Bucky shrugged, seemingly indifferent to his husband's insinuation.

"Whatever. Point is, I wanted to see if you wanted some help putting it together. Thought I might be able to give you some tips," your dad continued. Peter's smile widened, and he nodded eagerly before your dad knelt down to help try and make sense of the directions.

The discussion after the incident in the training room had gone much better than you would've ever imagined. Both your dads had been relatively calm once they'd returned from their mission, and surprisingly there had been no screaming, no crying, and no threats towards Peter from Bucky like you'd been picturing. The four of you had sat down together and had a long, mature discussion of what your plans were in terms of raising and caring for your child, and by the end your dads had even seemed enthusiastic about the prospect of being grandparents. Their involvement and excitement had only grown in the following months to the point now that you felt silly for ever having been frightened to tell them.

And now as you stood watching your boyfriend and dad work together to put your child's room together, tears began collecting in your eyes and you felt your chest warm with feelings of overwhelming love. Steve, noticing your tears, moved to wrap his arms around you and you leaned your head against his shoulder. Rubbing your belly lovingly, you couldn't help but feel a wave of gratitude wash over you for the men in your life and love for the little one that you'd all be meeting soon.

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avintagekiss24 · 4 years

Text

leave out all the rest | c. beck

→ pairing: chris beck x black!reader

→ word count: 5387

→ warnings: 18+ ONLY, smidge of angst, smut, sex, breeding kink, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal fingering, hand job, explicit language

→ square filled: @badthingshappenbingo

flashbacks

→ request: chris beck + breeding kink + "babe, I’m never gonna finish this work if you keep doing that" + "I know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that"

→ author note: dr. space daddy is finally here! this is also the first of my 5k celebration fics! all fics will be tagged #5k...holy god. thanks so much for the request @thedarkplume! title from linkin park leave out all the rest (i loveeee this song); line divider by @firefly-graphics; flashbacks are in italics. i also formatted this with the beta text post editor on desktop... so hopefully nothing looks weird and the italics/bold actually work... it is tumblr after all.

oh, hey, there’s a bit of a marvel crossover in this too!

Nervous doesn’t even begin to describe how you feel in this moment. Your stomach hasn’t been settled since you got the call two days ago. It’s been flipping and twisting ever since. Sleep hasn’t come easy either, but you’re used to that. Ever since Chris left, you haven’t slept well. It’s been almost seven hundred and thirty days— well, just three days short.

You follow the two tall military men, decked out in their dress blues, through the secure facility, your black leather combat boots thudding against the tile floors. Everything is white— the walls, the floors, the coats of all the scientists and doctors milling about— except for you and your flowery, thigh length sundress. Dark eyes wide, teeth nibbling on a sore, often bloody bottom lip from all the nibbling, small purse bouncing off one hip as a duffel bag bounces off the other.

Winding through corridor after corridor, pausing as the men lift their badges to keypads to get door after door to click open. An eerie quiet looms throughout the entire building, nothing but random beeps, your breathing, and footsteps.

Nervous doesn’t begin to describe it.

The walk gives you too much time to think about the last seven hundred and twenty seven days. All of the crying. All of the anger— the screaming. Chris trying to calm you down, assure you that they were okay— that he had to do this.

"It’s so easy for you, isn’t it?" You sobbed into the phone, staring up into the stars, knowing that he couldn’t but secretly hoping that he could see you.

"This is not easy for me," he choked back tears, his tongue heavy, "Leaving you is never easy but I have to do this, baby. We have to go back for Mark. We have to."

You didn’t answer his calls for over a week. And when you did, your words were quick and harsh.

"I can’t do this anymore. I’m moving in with my sister."

Chris was silent on the other end of the phone— too silent. He sighed after a while and just said, "Ok. I understand."

That was day four hundred and sixty three.

So you moved in with your sister. Got a job at the local bar, picked up every shift you could, sometimes working sixty, seventy hours a week— just so you didn’t have to think about him. It didn’t work. You’d still stare out the window at night, up into the big black sky and through the twinkling little stars, wondering where he was, what he was doing. If he was thinking about you.

Unbeknownst to you, Chris continued to call your sister. Just to check on you.

Day seven hundred was when two Air Force officers walked into the bar as you were cutting up lemons and oranges. Your stomach, in a perpetual state of tight and sour, dropped to your feet. It’s never good when the military comes knocking on your door.

“He’s dead,” you spit out, eyes watering, chest starting to heave, “He’s dead, isn’t he? They’re all dead.”

When they removed their hats, your hands flew to your face, covering your mouth to muffle the sobs. You just knew they were all dead. Humans can’t stay in space for this long. It’s not natural.

“No ma’am,” the taller, brown skinned man answered, a small smile breaking onto his face, showing off the distinctive gap between his two front teeth, “They’re back in our orbit. They’ll be landing within the next seventy two hours.”

It was a flurry after that. Phone calls, you moving back onto the base, protocol gatherings, interviews with local and national media. None of it mattered. You just wanted to see him— you needed to see him.

Not before his mandatory three week quarantine that is.

Day seven hundred and twenty five is when they called to let you know that he was ready to move onto the second phase of his integration back on earth. Two weeks cohabitating with another person of his choice, just to make sure that his body and cells can still tolerate, you know, earth— and that he doesn’t give off anything that could make earthlings sick.

They called to let you know that Chris chose you— if you wanted to, of course. If not, he could call his sister.

You were packing your bag before the call even ended.

After two days of getting tested for everything known to man, it’s now day seven hundred and twenty seven and here you are, passing through the last set of doors and stepping into a large observatory room. One of the General’s starts talking, but you don’t hear a word. You just blink slow, lips falling open as you stare back at Chris as he stands at the little square window of his living quarters. He smiles soft, running his hand through his short, dark hair before waving and placing his palm on the window.

Tears cloud your vision. Your chin trembles as a sad smile spreads on your face. A sob chokes in your throat and a warm tear streaks down your cheeks. Despite the talking man, you step up to the window and press your much smaller hand on the glass, spreading your fingers to match his. Chris rests his forehead to it and you do the same as you really start to bawl— shoulders shaking, face breaking, breath rushing fast and hard.

"Baby, don’t cry. Come on pretty, don’t— don’t cry."

Chris’ voice is muffled by the thick glass, but just hearing it— so close, so familiar— after so longs it’s just… it’s almost too much. It is too much.

“Ma’am, we can’t let you in there like this. We need you to calm down.”

Dense thuds shake the glass as Chris pounds on it, "Open the door, Sam!"

Sam grabs your bicep, gently, guiding you towards the door— Chris following you both, still talking to you through the glass.

"It’s okay baby, I’m right here. I’m right here."

“We need you to calm down,” Sam starts again, “He hasn’t been around—”

"Sam! Goddamn it, leave her alone! Open the door!"

“Beck! You cool it in there!”

"Don’t be an asshole! Open the door! She’s scared!"

You hear a scoff, “Step back from the window, Dr. Beck.”

"I swear to God—"

“Step back from the window, Dr. Beck.” Sam is stern now, pointing his finger towards Chris.

Sam pauses for a few long seconds, blinking slow but keeping his hand around your bicep— and thank God, because you honestly need it, “I’m going to badge you into the hallway, okay? You take this keycard,” he presses it into your palm, “And put it up to the keypad at the second door after I close this door behind you. It’s only good for one passthrough— once you’re in, you’re in until the medical staff clears you both. Understand?”

The second half of his speech is softer, his thumb rubbing the back of your arm. You like Chief Master Sergeant Sam Wilson. You nod quick, rubbing at your face with the back of your hand, sniffling hard and focusing a shaky breath out through your teeth as you step in front of the door. There’s a loud click and the metal pops, Sam reaching past you to push it open.

Your body, on autopilot, takes three steps to the second door, eyes staring at the keypad on the wall beside it. Chris is still talking to you through the windows, one hand pressed to the glass, the other on the door handle.

"Just a few more seconds baby. You’re doing so good."

There’s another click— Sam closing the door behind you. Water fills your eyes again, emotion choking up in your throat at the gravity of it all. All of the screaming. All of the crying. All of the hating him and loving him and missing him for seven hundred and twenty seven days all culminating right here, right now, while he’s just three feet away from you. The sky used to be the thing keeping you apart— now it’s just a wall. A door— that you can’t walk through.

"Baby, Chris says gently, "Come on baby. Open the door, honey."

You’re frozen. Eyes locked on the keypad, fingers gripping the keycard so hard they start to burn. Open the door, honey takes you back. Takes you back to the day that he told you he was going up— that he’d be gone for a year.

“Open the door, honey. Talk to me.”

“I don’t want to talk to you.” You sniffle, staring at your reflection in the mirror in your small bathroom.

“You knew this was coming. I don’t know why you’re so mad.”

“A year? A year, Chris? I’m just supposed to put my life on hold for you for an entire year?”

He sighs through the door, “I’ve worked my ass off for this, you know that.” You do know that, you’re just being selfish. Needy and selfish, “I know we’ve got plans baby, but it’s just a year. One year and then I’m all yours—”

“Yeah, until the next time you decide to go up there. This is what Melissa warned me about. You get addicted to it.”

“I won’t.”

“You will,” you retort, “I know you.”

That makes him laugh, and then you’re laughing because he’s laughing, “Open the door, please.” Chris sighs again.

As soon as you turn the knob, he’s pushing through it, lifting you up off your feet and twirling you around— to make you laugh again.

You were standing on a precipice that night and neither one of you knew it. Your lives, both individual and combined, would change forever and that was the night that set it all in motion.

The keycard digs into your fingers and palm, bringing you back into the present. Back into the hallway, back in front of Chris. You blink, linking eyes with him again, finding them soft and down turned, his head tilted as he presses his fingers to the glass.

"Let me hold you," he says soft. So soft that the glass between you gobbles it up. But you just know that’s what he said. You just know.

The door clicks in your ear, a breeze is in your face as Chris throws it open, and then you’re consumed. Arms wrapped around you, hard chest against yours as you’re lifted right off of your feet. He’s so warm— he’s always been so damn warm.

“Oh my god,” he whispers, leaning back a little as you push your face into his neck, “This moment was the only thing keeping me going.”

“I’m sorry,” you sob, pushing your face into his shoulder, your tears wetting his NASA sweatshirt, “I’m so sorry, I was so selfish,” the words are clipped and broken, heavy on your tongue, “Chris, I—”

“Don’t. Don’t do that, it doesn’t matter.” He sits you back on your feet, rubbing your back with both of his large hands, “I’m the one that should be sorry.”

You cry openly into his chest, wrapping your arms around him and pushing your hands up into his sweatshirt, under the thin t-shirt underneath— just to feel his skin, “I missed you so much.”

One, two, three, four pecks of his warm lips on the top of your head before he rests his cheek there, holding you tight as he takes a deep breath, “All that’s over now, hmm?” you can feel the smile on his face, “We don’t have to miss each other anymore.”

A yawn pushes out of your mouth as you stretch out tight, sore muscles screaming. Eyes flutter as you shift, another deep breath pushing out your nose as you nuzzle your face into the pillows, body cocooned in warmth. You’re drifting again, quick, when an abrupt panic races through your veins without warning. Your stomach drops, skin instantly flushing with heat as you spring up, eyes as wide as saucers as your breath rushes.

That’s when you hear it, an all too familiar sound. A pencil, tapping slowly, methodically, against something. It calms you instantly. It’s real, you’re real, Chris is real, and you’re here. He’s here.

You swing your legs over the edge of the small bed, tucked in the corner behind a small partition. There’s a soft light glowing underneath it and a single red blinking dot emanating from the corner of the room— a camera. You push your hair out of your face but keep your fingers on your cheeks, closing your eyes as you focus on your breathing. In, out, in, out, in, out. There’s a murmur, Chris mumbling to himself and you can’t help but smile.

You stand and start moving towards the noises, padding soft and slow as his mess of brown hair and hunched back comes into view. He stands, switching out an X-Ray on the viewer before he plops back down into the swivel chair, staring at it for a second before he starts flipping through the large, open text book just to his left. There’s a little white board off to the right, leaning against the wall, the days he’s been “gone”, seven hundred and twenty seven, scribbled in his messiest of messy handwriting.

The little slice of time watching him sends you right back to your college years, waking up in his dorm room, finding the bed empty and him huddled over a too small desk, furiously flipping through a thousand page text book. You’d sneak up on him, just as you are now, barely dressed and sleepy eyed. Dig your fingers into his hair, scratch his scalp slow. Giggle as his shoulders slump and his head falls back a little, him moaning all the while.

“God, that feels good.”

“You let me fall asleep.”

“You cried yourself to sleep. Didn’t have the heart to wake you… you look like you haven’t slept in a year.”

“Hmm, more like two. What are you doing?” you ask, pushing around his side and crawling into his lap, nuzzling into his shoulder.

“Looking at our X-Rays from earlier today. I’m working on another paper for the Institute.”

“Trying to see if you guys are still earthlings?”

He laughs, the sound rumbling through you, making you smile, “Kinda, yeah. Our body masses have changed dramatically— our bones are longer, I’m not shitting you.” You giggle again at the enthusiasm in his voice, “It’s just a few centimeters, but still. Our brain waves are a little different, metabolism has sped up… it’s incredible.”

You keep the small smile on your face as your fingertips drift over his chest, rubbing slow as you feel his eyes fall to you, “You should get back in bed,” he says, squeezing your knee gently, “You look so tired, baby.”

“Not without you.”

He laughs again, “My circadian rhythm’s all fucked up, I can’t sleep.”

“Then it looks like you're stuck with me,” you kiss his chin and then cuddle back into him, “Don’t mind me.”

Mind you, he doesn't. He just goes about flipping pages and scribbling down random thoughts, marking up his pile of x-rays and fumbling through his and the rest of the crew's medical charts. You push your hand up into the arm of his navy blue NASA sweatshirt, raking your nails up and down his forearm absentmindedly as you breathe him in. Your other hand wanders too, tracing the band of his dark sweatpants before skipping up into his sweatshirt, brushing over his stomach and up to his chest.

The pads of your fingers outline the muscles that are still there, his pecs, down and across his soft abs, before back up and over a cheeky nipple. He jumps slightly, crinkling his nose as he smiles big and hard, “Babe, I’m never gonna finish this work if you keep doing that.”

“Maybe that’s the point.”

“Oh, is that so?”

You bat two big eyes up at him, the weight of going almost two years without catching up with you right at this moment. A hum vibrates in your throat as you stand, taking a few steps away from him before you toss your eyes over your shoulder, licking your bottom lip before sinking your teeth into it. You hold out your hand, wiggling your fingers after a few moments, watching him drag his big eyes down your bare legs and then back up over your powder pink satin shorts and matching camisole.

“Come to bed, Dr. Beck.”

He’s up and on his feet before the words are out of your mouth. Warm fingers interlace with yours as the two of you move back towards the bed, falling onto the soft twin size mattress. His weight dips into the bed as he sinks his knees into it, pulling his sweatshirt over his head as you crawl towards the headboard. You draw your legs up, swaying them gently back and forth, palms flat on your thighs as you inhale deep, watching as he tosses his shirt to the floor.

The smile on your face grows larger as he crawls over you, pushing your legs open with his soft hands before he settles right between them. Chris takes his time looking at you, smiling soft as his eyes drift over your face, his index finger dragging down the bridge of your nose, over two full lips, and down your chin and neck. You let out a quick breath when the pad of that sneaky finger dips just inside your tank top— right into your cleavage.

He cups your face, his thumb resting on your lips, brushing gently, “I’m never leaving you again,” he whispers, blue eyes filling with earnest as they bounce between yours, “I mean it.”

You turn your head into his palm, pressing your lips into the soft, warm skin, planting kisses, “You promise?”

The delivery is breathless. Quiet. Small. Almost begging him to mean it. He takes a deep breath, pushes it out slow before leaning in, closing his eyes as he rubs the tip of his nose against yours. That’s when he kisses you— slow. Deep. Tongue pushing through your lips and into your mouth. Massaging the roof of your mouth before sliding along your tongue. He even moans a little, lets his body— muscles, bones, brain— relax. Lets himself melt into you because it’s just been so damn long.

It ends slow, the kiss. Chris grabbing your lip with his teeth and pulling gently before he rests his forehead to yours. Eyes closed, his big, skilled hands and fingers flirting with your calves—pushing over your knees and then down your thighs to come to rest on your sides and hips.

“I promise.” You slide your hands up and down his sides, letting your eyelids flutter as he continues, punctuating his words with more gentle kisses, “We can start that life you’re so crazy about,” he laughs when you laugh and wrap your arms around his neck, “Buy you a house.”

“On the base?”

“I thought you didn’t like the base?”

“I don’t… but I kinda... do.”

“Then yeah, on the base if that’s what you want.”

Your eyes are still closed as hot lips press against your face— the crook of your nose, underneath one eye, cheeks, and then chin. You push your fingers up into his hair as he forges a path with his lips and tongue— down your neck, over two collarbones, down your arm— all the while his hands move upward. Up into your silk top, nimble fingers playing with two tight nipples before he rucks the silk top up to your chin.

“Wait,”

“What?”

“What about them?”

“Them, who?”

Pointing with your foot towards the blinking red light in the corner, “Them.”

He laughs and you laugh, covering your face with your hands until Chris pries them away, “They’re nerds, babe. We’ve already made them so nervous they’ve left the control room.”

You honestly can’t remember the last time you laughed this hard. Not since he left you suppose. It’s a nice sound, for both you and him, filling up the small space, making it alive and lived in instead of clinical and dry, “That’s not nice, Chris!”

He shimmies the thin material up over your head, casting it to the floor, “It’s the truth! I should know. Remember the first time I saw you naked? I couldn’t look anybody in the eye for a week.”

The memory makes you laugh, soft and dreamy-like, “That was so long ago.”

Chris catches the tone. It makes him halt, for just a second, his eyes shifting away from you. Guilt. For holding you at an arm’s length for so long. For making you number two. For making you wait for him for so damn long.

You tilt your head, eyes searching his. Gentle hands claim his face, pulling him back into your strong gaze, “Stay with me,” you whisper, eyes bouncing between his, “You’re buying me a house.”

“Ah, yes,” with one fell swoop, your shorts are pulled down your legs, right over the tips of your manicured toes and thrown to the floor, “One story? Two?” He asks, back up on his knees.

“Umm, maybe just one,” You answer, sitting up, slipping your hands into the dark sweats still covering his bottom half, “A two story house is too much to keep clean.”

You pull, but not all the way. Just enough to see his hips and that little tuft of dark hair underneath his belly button. You can’t help yourself and lean forward, kissing his stomach, giggling when he jumps a little. When you do it again, kiss him, and then a third time, and a forth, he gives in. Sweeps your locs over your shoulders and pulls them into a ponytail in his hand. That’s when you hook your thumbs back underneath the thick band of his sweats and pull a little harder, pushing the material right over his hard cock, making it bounce.

Chris kicks out of the sweats, grabs your face in his hands and tilts it upward. Leans down and kisses you again— soft. Sweet. All while rubbing small circles into your cheeks with his thumbs. He stays there, forehead to forehead, eyelashes spread over his buttery, quickly blushing red cheeks as you palm him, dragging your hand from the base right to the tip.

It doesn’t take much— never has. After a few strokes, he’s wet and red all over. Chest, neck, cheeks. Mouth agape, pulling in ragged breaths as his eyelids flutter. He swallows hard, and then hums quick, deep and throaty before inhaling through his open mouth. You push upward, kissing him as you continue slow strokes, sweeping a thumb over his wet tip.

Fingertips brush along the inside of your thigh, down low, first by your knee. Then, slowly, they skirt upward, not groping or kneading, just brushing— flirting with your skin until they reach their destination. You gasp, mouth falling open as adept fingers— not only just in general, but with your body specifically— push through wet folds.

“One story it is then,” he breathes, hot, unhurried, “A dog and a,” he slams his eyes shut, hissing and grunting when you squeeze him, “Fuck baby,” he swallows again, lips trembling as he nuzzles in, rubbing the tips of your noses together, “A dog and a cat.”

Your free hand wraps around his neck, fingertips pushing into his hair as your head tips back, hips start to shove forward, eager for his touch— wanting those fingers inside. When Chris obliges, sinks his index and middle finger into your cunt— touch starved and needy— you mewl. Making a real sound for the first time in seven hundred and twenty seven days. It enlivens you both.

Chris pushes you back, lays you back onto the small mattress, spreads you out. Keeps his fingers inside, pumping slow, curling, massaging. Thumb pressed against your clit, rubbing. He lays between your legs, coming face to face with your most intimate and blows gently. Warm air sticking to balmy flesh. Big blue eyes flick up to yours, then back to your sweet, licking his lips as a squelch fills the room.

His tongue darts out, slips along the inside of your thigh. Your hips react instantly, jutting upward as a sharp breath fills your chest. A long arm pushes up your body, fingers prodding your breast, tweaking a nipple before he palms the skin, but not for long. Within seconds, his fingertips are pushing into a willing mouth. Your tongue, swirling around thick digits as you grab onto his hand, holding it there.

Warm air tickles damp skin again as he blows on you, “Have some babies,” he offers quick, the words muffled by your flesh as he finally laps at you, tongue slipping through sticky folds, flattening against your slit as he massages the delicate, “How many you want, baby?”

Nothing but a bitten-off groan answers him. It comes for many reasons. His fingers somehow delving deeper, lips brushing over your cunt— the thought of babies. Little brown skinned, curly headed babies running in the backyard with that dog and cat. Wide smiles, complete with missing teeth, loud laughter, declarations of love as they jump into mommy and daddy’s arms.

“Oh yeah,” heavy words breathed into your ear, a hunk of man now laying on top of you, cock pressing at your opening, “My pretty girl wants babies,” the wetness makes it easy for him to slide in— all the way in— bury deep, “I’m gonna give them to you. You’ve been so good.”

He’s moving, hips pushing and pulling as he cups your face in his hands, presses his forehead to yours, “I’m gonna fill you up,” he mutters, swollen lips brushing against yours, “Stuff you— full of— my, fuck,” a deep moan, another quick hiss as he bites his bottom lip, overcome by the warmth, the wet— the tight, “Fuck, you feel good.”

Feverish lips are on yours again, teeth nibbling as his hips shove into you. Soft and swift. A palm covering your breast, fingers pressing, kneading and working sensitive, responsive skin. Nipples hardening, heat blooming across an ardent canvas of skin, pulsing hips eager to meet his.

Chris cups your chin, pushes upward so you're forced to keep slitted eyes on him and him only, “You want my babies? Hmm? Tell me baby,” you can only whimper in response, digging your nails into his sides, drawing your legs up and around him as he plunges deep, “Come on honey, use those words. Tell me how much you want my babies.”

He fucks into you hard, jamming his hips just once— the sound of skin on skin slapping out loud and off the walls. It arches your back, the sudden, quick thrust. Sends you right up into his chest. Chris pulls you into his lap as he falls back on his ass, extending his legs, heels digging into the mattress as he wraps his arms around you, holding you close and tight, fingers spreading out on your back.

Hips roll into one another. Fingers grip his calf as you lean back, hot, sloppy lips on your chest, over and between bouncing tits. A taut nipple pulled right into his wet mouth. Slippery tongue swirling and flicking, teeth nibbling before he sucks on the tight nub, teasing it further.

Then he’s holding your hips, forcing you down onto his cock. More rushed, sticky words falling from swollen, red lips, “You want me to fill you up? Hmm? Tell me.”

Tears slip down your cheeks, overcome by it all. The emotion of it, the physicality of you and him tangled together— the words, how many years you’ve waited to hear those words.

“That’s right, sweet girl,” he purrs, thrusting harder, faster, “You want me to come in you, don’t you? You’d love it if I came in you, huh? Knocked you up? Gave you a baby?”

You kiss him hard. Cupping his face, moaning sweet into his wet mouth, “I want it,” it’s breathy— desperate, “I want it, Chris. I want it.”

“Then I’ll give it to you. I’ll give it all to you.”

It’s feverish after that. Pushing and pulling. Grunting, smacking— lips on lips, skin on skin. Large hands gripping, fingers pressing into the meat of thighs and calves and ass and tits. His fingers grip the meat of your thighs, your ass, slide up your back— around your neck as your head falls back. Those fingers find your mouth, push just inside as he wraps his other arm around your waist, pulling your hips closer, helping them rock.

His fingers are out of your mouth, cupping your cheek now. Smoothing hair out of your face as it strains. You try not to get loud, slam your eyes closed, purse your lips as your toes curl and stomach tightens… heart flutters.

“Oh no,” he murmurs, brushing his thumbs over your closed eyes before prodding at your lips, “Don’t do that, honey. I know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that. Come on, let me hear you.”

“No, I—“

“Don’t be modest,” his tone shifts, going stern and deep, and that’s all it really takes for the noise to flow, “I wanna hear you.”

But he knew that.

It’s a sweet little hum, and then a gasp before it’s clipped by an obscenity— a shaky, desperate, filthy word that dissolves away into a loud groan and then… it’s all downhill from there.

You couldn’t hold it in if you tried. It’s been too long. A pent up aggression, a nervous need all finally working its way out of you. You pull him close— crush your chest against his, wrap two liquid arms around his neck, press your face right against his. Chris loops an arm around your waist, squeezing your opposite hip, pressing his fingers right into the soft skin until it hurts.

But it’s good, the pain of the squeeze. It helps you right over the edge, makes you finally cum after seven hundred and twenty seven days. Slow at first. A warmth just taking its time as it spreads. The feeling sort of foreign because it’s been so long— your brain hasn’t caught up just yet.

When it does catch up, brain and body finding each other, dormant synapses kicking on with a jolt, it’s not just a warmth. It’s molten now, searing and stirring, passing through veins and muscles and skin and bone— it’s that deep. Toes curling so hard they go numb, fingertips digging into his shoulders as you throw your head back.

You’re sure the scientists and military guards can hear you three floors down.

Chris leans in, hot, wet, shiny lips pressing against your chest, over your tits with sloppy kisses, hips still churning into yours until they just can’t. Wet walls closing in, clamping down as they spasm, that molten enveloping him. His hips freeze quick with the first spurt, but find a haphazard rhythm as he comes. Fills you up just like he promised.

He pushes those warm blooms of silk deep with now pointed, long strokes. Not a drop escaping— it’s all for you, after all. Supply and demand and all that.

The mattress is a dream beneath you. Inviting and soft as he lays you into it, still rooted deep as he rolls you onto your side. An arm snakes around your hip, a palm and long fingers anchoring in the center of your chest. A hot, flushed cheek presses against yours as lazy wet lips drag along the back of your neck. Languid thrusts at random intervals keeps you gasping as he tucks his knees and thighs into the backs of yours.

“Say it again,” you whisper after a few quiet minutes, breath still heavy, chest still heaving.

Chris plunges into you again, soft and sweet and deep, “Say what, honey?”

“That you won’t,” the words break off, a moan replacing them as he kisses a trail down your arm, fucks into you once, twice, three times, “That you won’t leave me again.”

“I’m not leaving you again.”

When you wake up the next morning, that little whiteboard with the days scribbled on it is erased. All it says now?

Day one.

#bad things happen bingo #5k...holy god #chris beck #chris beck x reader #chris beck x black!reader #chris beck x you #you x chris beck #reader x chris beck #the martian #chris beck fanfiction

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spidernerdsblog · 3 years

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Match made in Hell : Chapter Thirteen

A/N : And this is it the last and final chapter. Kinda sad but mostly happy to finally finish this series. Hope you like this chapter. Let me know what you think.

Pairing : Mob! Tom Holland x Reader

Summary : you always wanted a simple life but to be born as the daughter of a dangerous mobster turned out to be a curse for you. Everything changes when your father gets your lover killed and forcefully marries you off to another mobster as a part of a deal. You hate your father and your husband the only thing you seek is now revenge. Will you ever be able to fall in love again or this burning hatred inside you will consume you?

Warnings : mature content, kidnapping, blood, violence, murder, death, language

SERIES MASTERLIST

“What? How?” you looked at him with a worrisome face.

“We don’t know yet but we are gonna catch him don’t worry” his hands come up to your shoulders in assurance.

“Then we must go now he might be planning something dangerous to take revenge on us” saying so you were about to rush back to your room to get dressed but Tom caught hold of your hand.

“Y/N stop, you can’t go”

“Why? You only said we need to catch him” you look at him questioningly.

“By we I meant me and the boys. You are not going anywhere, not in this condition” he speaks softly placing a hand gently over your stomach “you remember what Dr. Martin said, right? No stress and as much rest as possible”

“But-but you don’t understand Tom I can help and I was pregnant the last time we caught him” you argue as Tom reaches his hand out to cup your face with an understanding smile.

“I know love but we weren’t aware of it at that time and I'm thankful that he didn’t do anything bad but not anymore" he caressed your cheek with his thumb "I’m not letting either of you come in harm's way” you were about to say something but he cut you off “please Y/N for this time just let me handle this. I know you’re strong and the most fearless woman I have ever met in my life but for this time for their sake at least stay back”

You finally gave up hanging your head low with a sigh. He was right with your current situation; it wasn't a wise idea. The risk would be too much and you can’t afford it, not when it’s about the safety of the little ones growing inside you.

“Okay but promise me you’ll be careful and in no circumstance you will risk your life” you place your hand over his on your stomach “we will be waiting for you”

“I promise I’ll be safe” he presses a soft kiss on your forehead “you just take care of yourself. I have told the guards everything and Leslie will also be there” he gives a one last peck on your lips before parting “I’ll be back in no time I promise” he reassures smiling as you nod mirroring his smile.

****

Tom along with with his brothers and Harrison were at their office in Westminster discussing their next move to get hold of Ethan before he makes a move against them.

“Any news?” Tom asks Harrison.

“Nothing,” he answers with disappointment.

“We searched downtown but found no trace of him,” Harry informs, exchanging glances with Sam.

“How is this even possible? A man escaped but is nowhere to be found?!” Tom groans in frustration when they are interrupted by William whom Vanessa brought along with her in case he might be able to help track down Ethan with his years of experience with your father's mob.

“Only if the man has never left the place” he elucidates.

“What?” Tom’s brows knit in a frown.

“Has anyone seen him getting out of the house?” William throws the question to his men as they stood there silently with their gazes lowered down at the floor.

“Answer the question you morons!” Tom barks at them.

“No sir” one of them squeaks out in response as the frown on Tom’s face grows deeper.

“Well then you have your answer Ethan is still in your house hiding maybe seeking for the right opportunity” William remarks.

“Right opportunity for what?” Vanessa questions.

“Y/N..” Tom’s voice comes out shaky as panic washes over his face at the realization “Y/N is all alone in the house. We need to go now!”

****

You were in your room trying to keep yourself occupied by reading some books on parenting and childbirth to calm your nerves which honestly wasn’t helping much cause you knew how dangerous it is with Ethan escaping and the vipers seeking revenge. Since no one would be informing you about anything you thought it’s best, you take a nap as stressing about it will be useless and in turn be bad for the two little beans inside you.

You were about to lie down when you heard shuffling noises outside of your room. Your hand instantly reached out to your bedside table, opening the drawer you took out your gun and got off the bed. You carefully tip-toed out of your room, eyes scanning the corridors when you felt someone’s presence behind you. You cocked your gun ready to turn and shoot.

“I wouldn’t dare to do that” you heard, feeling the muzzle of a gun pressed to the back of your head.

“Ethan?” you frowned deeply.

“Miss me baby?” his voice dark and full of malice. You went to shove him in the stomach with your elbow but he was quick to catch hold of your hand and twist it back as the gun fell from your grasp on the floor.

“You’re getting clumsy sweetheart” he chuckles tauntingly.

“What do you want?!” you hissed struggling to set free.

“You’ll get to know soon but for now start walking”

“What makes you think I’ll listen to whatever you say?” you grit under your teeth.

“Well honey news is in the air that you're pretty knocked up right now" he snickers and your throat went dry, he knows "so if you don't do what I say I wouldn’t hesitate for a moment to pull the trigger”

Usually you were tough and it takes a lot to shake you but now it is different. You couldn’t think of fighting back as fear grasped on to your mind and body. You weren’t alone, you had two lives growing inside you and in no way you were going to put their lives in danger so you remained quiet and decided to do exactly what you were told. You slowly walked down the stairs with Ethan behind you holding you by your arm with one hand the other had his gun pointed at the back of your head when Leslie walked out of the kitchen.

“Ma’am!” she gasped in horror and immediately pressed the alarm on the nearby wall to alert the guards outside as she rushed towards you in an attempt to save you.

“Get back or she dies” Ethan threatens, pressing the gun further to your head.

“It’s ok Les just stay where you are” you say calmly. Two of Tom’s men posted at the gate barged in pointing their guns.

“Put down your gun now or you’ll regret it” they threaten, cocking their guns which made Ethan chuckle darkly.

“You really thought I would be so stupid to do this all alone” he snickers when three men dressed in all black rounded them from behind. They pulled out their guns and within seconds several gunshots were fired piercing through their bodies as both of the guards dropped dead.

“Leslie run!” you shout at her.

“But…” she hesitates.

“Just go or they will kill you!” you tell her as she unwillingly ran to the back of the mansion to get out of the place.

“Yes, run to your boss and tell him that I got his most prized possession and soon I’ll have this whole city within my palms too” he grins wickedly. He then drags you out of the front door to the driveway where two SUV’s were parked.

“C'mon get inside the car” he nudged you as you reluctantly got in the passenger seat while he sat on the driver's seat and starts the car.

“Ethan you don’t wanna do this” you tried to talk some sense into him.

“Oh hell I wanna do it. Today I take back what is rightfully mine. Now shut the fuck up!” he yelled at you while driving and you flinched feeling utterly helpless.

“Tom is on his way he is gonna kill you and if my dad comes to know” you glared at him.

“I don’t care what that bastard wants, he has been using me to take hold of the drug cartel but I was the one who was using him to set up my own gang to take my sweet revenge. Your daddy thinks he owns the vipers, no honey, it's me who gives them the orders” he laughs when his eyes go to the phone in your hands “give me your phone” he orders.

“Why?” you tried to hide it away from him

“Just give it to me dammit!” he snatched it out of your hand and threw it out of the window on the side of the road “now no one will know where you are” he chuckles darkly speeding away through the traffic.

****

“Y/N! Y/N! Where are you?!” Tom stormed inside the house to be met with the two dead bodies of his men in a pool of blood.

“Oh God!” V gasped in horror and the boys were left dumbfounded at the scene in front of them..

“Y/N! Where are you?!” Tom called out again desperately.

“Sir!” a very terrified Leslie came running from the back of the house.

“Leslie, where is Y/N? Answer me!” he demanded.

“They took her sir” she broke down into tears as Tom felt the ground slipping from under his feet.

“Uggh this is all my fault!” he knocks off the glass sculpture kept on the nearby table out of rage.

“Tom, calm down, get yourself together!” Harrison stops him from breaking any other things further.

“How can I stay calm Harrison?! That bastard took her and I wasn’t even there to save her. Now I don’t know where she is or even if she is alive or not” he laments.

“You need to think clearly, Tom. He won’t do anything to her I’m sure not until he gets what he wants” William remarks and just then Tom’s phone rang with an unknown caller id

“Take it I’m sure it’s him” William advised he pressed the call button as Ethan’s face became visible on the scream.

“Hey Tom, what’s up man?” he says with a smug grin.

“You scum, where is Y/N?! If you lay a finger on her you’re gonna die a very brutal death!” Tom barked.

“Oh don’t worry, she's alright. For now. Say hi to your husband honey” he mocks flipping the camera towards you. Tom’s heart clenched seeing you tied up to a chair. You looked completely exhausted as you somehow lifted your face up to face the camera.

“Y/N…” he croaks a lump growing inside his throat as he fights back his tears after seeing you being treated like this when you should in the comfort of your home.

“Tom-Tom, don’t agree to what he says it’s a tra-” you tried to warn him but were quickly cut off.

“Okay that’s enough sweetheart”

“Give me my Y/N back!” Tom growled in rage.

“Woah not so fast not until you give me what I want” he remarks with a smug grin.

“What the hell do you want?!”

“Nothing much, just hand over your mob and accept my allegiance only then you'll get your wife back. I’m giving you 12 hours to think Tom after that I’ll empty this gun into her head” he threatens and the call disconnects.

“Hey wait!” Tom yells at the dark screen.

“Let’s go! We don’t have much time” Tom was about to rush out when Harry stopped him

“Wait Tom, are you seriously going to hand over everything?”

“I'm ready to give up everything for Y/N. I don't give a fuck about the mob because that’s the reason behind Y/N, my wife, the mother of children is being held captive in the first place!” he snaps.

“Don’t do anything in a rush you don’t want to strengthen your enemy’s power do you?” William remarks..

“Yes Tom, I agree with William too. You do remember what the Coopers did back then before your dad had to kill them himself?” Harrison reminded him.

“Yes I do but what option do we have?” Tom sighed unable to find a way out

“You have an option” V speaks up

“What?”

“Ask papa for help” she suggests

“Are you out of your mind?! You’re telling me to ask another enemy of ours for help for whom Y/N was almost going to die!” Tom says disapproving her idea.

“Just listen to me for once all this rivalry between you and our dad is just because of the business. If he comes to know that Y/N is in danger he would certainly help cause he loves his family more than anything” she explains.

“Vanessa is right Tom only Victor can help you. The vipers were his gang after all he will know everything and you also need more men to overpower Ethan” William agrees.

“What do you guys say?” Tom looks at his brothers and Harrison.

“You should call him” they all suggest unanimously. After a little pondering Tom took a deep breath and dialed his number.

“You really have the balls to call us after what you did Holland” Julian quipped.

“Julian you gotta listen to me mate this is important. Ethan escaped”

“Well it's not our problem that he escaped”

“He has your sister Julian” Tom informs.

“And why would I help you to save her who is the reason we are about to lose the whole drug cartel”

“It wasn’t your sister Julian it was Ethan all along he had been double crossing you and using the vipers to grab hold of the drug cartel behind you back”

“So what? We just don’t care now end the call”

“Jules, wait your sister is pregnant” Tom reveals as Julian perks up at the news.

“What? What the hell are you talking about?” Julian asks with concern in his voice.

“She is expecting. I know you have had issues but I also know you care for her and so does Mr. Martinez. I know he is listening to this too. It's your daughter sir and if you really want her to stop hating you then help us take down Ethan” Tom’s voice breaks as he pleads with them.

“Dad?” Julian turned to Victor.

“I'm gonna kill that bastard myself!” Victor mutters standing up from his chair enraged “everyone to get ready and tell them to meet at the Docklands”

****

After searching for almost three hours your father was able to locate you. You were being held in an old factory near Kennington. They drove to that place as fast as they could and stopped a mile ahead to not alert his goons. Carefully they walked over to the place and took down the guards posted outside surrounding the place. Tom along with Harrison and your father and brother entered the building killing anyone who came in their way. The deserted factory echoed with the loud noise of gunshots and you knew that Tom was here to rescue you.

“You hear that? Tom is here, you’re going to die Ethan” you quipped a knowing smile etched on your face.

“Not so easily” he goes to untie the ropes and pulls you up on your feet pressing his gun against the side of your head.

“Y/N!” Tom barged in.

“Come closer and she dies,” Ethan threatens.

“You might want to reconsider mate” Tom says with a sly smirk

“Why is that?”

“Your sister Meredith, is her name right? And she lives in an apartment near Brixton” he muses “guess what? my brothers happen to be there too” fear washed over Ethan’s face as he realized how the tables have turned and all thanks to your father who knew about his sister and told Tom about her.

“No, keep my sister out of this” he says weakly.

“You left me no choice mate” Tom tsks “it’s over Ethan so let Y/N go and no one gets hurt” he warns him as Ethan removes the gun from your head and lets go of you. You take one quick glance at him and then look at Tom standing in front of you. You immediately strided your way towards him with tears in your eyes but Ethan had something else in his mind. He lifted his gun again and pulled the trigger aiming at your back.

“Y/N!!” Tom shrieked but before the bullet could hit you Victor was on time to pull you in his tight embrace guarding you as the bullet hit him on his right shoulder. He flinched in pain as you grasped on to his shirt trembling.

“Daddy?” you said weakly glancing up to him with tear filled eyes.

“It’s ok mija I’m here now. Don’t worry everything is going to be alright” he caresses the back of your head gently as you feel your head spin. The stress was too much for you to handle and you fainted in his arms.

“Go get that motherfucker!” Tom shouted seeing Ethan trying to flee. His men were quick to grab him as Harrison snatched the gun out of his hand and punched him right at his face.

“Jules, take her to the hospital now!” your father instructed. Jules took you from his arms and carried you to the car and immediately left for the hospital.

Tom stalked his way towards Ethan as if he was a prey. He cocked his gun, his gaze stone cold eyes burning with rage. He kicks Ethan on his legs as his knees buckled and he kneeled down on the floor in front of him.

“Tom please let me go I swear I’ll go as far away as possible and never return back” Ethan begs for his mercy.

“You should have thought about it before you decided to shoot Y/N” Tom growled, pressing the gun in between his eyes. But for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to pull the trigger. It didn’t feel right to him.

“Tom, what are you waiting for?” Harrison nudged him.

“I-I can’t, Y/N wouldn’t want this” Tom looked at him unsure of what to do “it’s better we hand him over to the police” he suggests.

“If you can’t I will” Victor interrupts and aggressively points his gun at Ethan.

“No Victor, wait!” Tom tried to stop him but it was too late he had already pulled the trigger and Ethan’s lifeless body collapsed on the ground.

“It’s ok Tom nobody gets away after messing with my family” he shrugs when the blaring of the sirens could be heard from a distance.

“Get out of here right now!” Victor says to Tom.

“But..” Tom hesitates.

“Leave or you’ll get caught too” he insists.

“What about you?”

“I think it’s time for me to pay for my crimes” he sighs looking at the gun in his hand with a contemplating smile etched on his face. The screeching of car tires could be heard as the bellowing of the sirens grew louder which was soon followed by the clamoring footsteps of people in tactical boots.

“Now go to my daughter she needs you” Victor rushes him “and remember to keep her happy and safe or else I’ll hunt you down too” he warns him.

“Will keep that in mind” Tom smirks and walks out of the place.

“Raise your hands where I can see them!” Grace orders and without a single Victor raises his hands in surrender.

“Victor Martinez you are under arrest for embezzlement and several other crimes including hoarding and smuggling of illegal drugs and murders” Grace states pointing her gun at him along with a team of officers behind her. A male officer was quick to handcuff him. Tom watched it whole from a distance as he was led inside the police van before leaving for the hospital.

You woke up to the rhythmic beeping of the EKG. Your eyes slowly adjust to the lighting of the hospital room.

“Tom..Tom” you mumbled half awake.

“Hey, hey I’m right here” Tom quickly gets up from the couch and holds your hands as you sit up.

“Tom what happened?” you ask warily.

“You fainted honey, your blood pressure went low due to all the stress” he informs.

“What about our babies?” your hand goes to your stomach as you look at him with panic stricken eyes “are they ok? Tom, are they safe?” you rambled out of fear.

“Yes darling, they are safe and healthy the doctor’s confirmed” he assures you gently brushing your hair with his hands.

“Oh thank god” you heaved a sigh of relief.

“I think we should thank your dad too cause if he wasn’t there in time you would have got shot” he remarks.

“I know,” you say, staring at your lap.

“Y/N the interpol and police took your father”

“Well that was going to happen some or the other day anyways” you half shrugged.

“But he saved you, saved us”

“I know and that’s the irony for the first time my dad genuinely showed that cared about me and now I will never see him again” you say with regret in your voice.

4 months later….

You were seated in the huge courtroom of the New York State Supreme Court with Tom, Vanessa and your mother by your side as you awaited the jury’s verdict on the charges you, your father and brother have been indicted with. After your father’s arrest the underworld imploded and most of the leaders went into hiding to save their businesses and escape the law. It was a huge issue in the international media too, the trial went on for three months. You had to travel back and forth to appear before the court for the murders you were charged with.

Though they could never find any proof against you, your dad and your husband made sure of that. Tom had told you that he had requested the families not to testify against you and they had agreed. But you know his way of requesting people very well : it's pointing a gun at their head. If they don’t agree then they are permanently relieved of their life.

When you said that to him he laughed it off by saying “that’s preposterous! I would never do that” and you gave him ‘not buying it’ look “okay the old me would but I’m a changed man now and as I promised no violence” he clarified. But you knew better and you didn’t mind this time really cause you didn’t want to abandon this beautiful life you finally got and go to jail.

Moreover in less than two months there will be two new additions to your little family and you don’t want to miss any of it. You knew that you could never get rid of the blood in your hands and so did Tom but this time you are gonna start afresh for those pure little souls that are coming to light up your entire world and remove the darkness that had been clouding your lives.

“The jury have reached a verdict” the judge’s voice echoed through the silent courtroom and Tom places his hand over yours comfortingly giving you a reassuring smile telling you that everything will be ok “and they unanimously find Victor Martinez guilty of the following charges related to extortion, money laundering, murders and illegal smuggling of drugs. He is being sentenced to lifetime imprisonment” the judge declared.

“Also due to lack of evidence the jury declares Julian Martinez and Y/N Holland innocent and free of all charges” he adds and Tom squeezes your hand gently with a soft smile and a relief in his eyes as you look at him mirroring his smile.

“The court is adjourned for the day” the judge announced and everybody stood up from their seats to walk out of the room one by one. You watched your dad getting handcuffed and being taken away by the officials as your brother followed them to finish the rest of the formalities that needed to be done before they took your father to the prison. For once you wanted to hug him tight and let him know that you loved him even after whatever went down between you. You wanted to let him know that you have forgiven him, you felt bad for your mother too after all he is her husband.

“Don’t worry honey I’ll be fine” she touches your shoulder breaking you out of your thoughts.

“I’m really sorry mom you don’t deserve this” you sniffled

“It’s ok, Y/N I knew this day was coming soon and how much ever you feel bad a crime is a crime”

“Mom, you can come live with us. I can talk to Tom, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind” you offered.

“No sweetie that’s not happening I’m better off here and Jules will be there I will be perfectly ok. You just take care of yourselves”

“Hello Mrs Martinez” Tom interrupts.

“Hello Tom”

“Honey it’s quite some time you ate anything let’s get you something shall we?” he suggested to you.

“Yeah I’m feeling a little hungry to be honest” you remarked.

“I know love, let’s go then there’s a nice café right around the corner of the street” he says as Julian joins you three too.

“All formalities are complete, it’s time for us to leave as well” he informs as you walk to him and held his hands.

“Jules please take care of my mother” you ask him with hopeful eyes.

“I will don’t worry” he pulls you in a hug and kisses your forehead “you guys take care too, alright” you nod and go to hug your mom before leaving the place with Tom.

Tom and you slowly walked out of the court and made your way to the café. Upon entering the shop you saw Vanessa already waiting for you as you went and sat down at the table while Tom went to give your orders. You were a little bit out of breath cause being seven months pregnant with twins is no big joke. You get easily tired now. Your stomach has grown round and big in the past few months which makes it difficult for you to bend down. But Tom was always there for you patiently helping you out. He even signed up for birthing and parenting classes so that you are ready for everything.

“Well finally it’s over isn’t it? You got what you wanted” V chimes.

“Yeah kind of” you sigh “is it wrong though that I feel bad for him?”

“Not at all after all he is our father we have the right to feel bad but past is past we gotta move on” you remarks “so how are the little munchkins?”

“Oh they are doing quite well and also not letting their mother sleep with their constant kicking seems like they can’t wait to come out already and so do I. I really want my precious sleep back” you joked.

“Oh sissy for the next two years forget about sleep cause you will be getting none” V snickers.

“Can’t complain though I voluntarily signed up for it” you shake your head smiling as you pull out a file from inside your bag “here” you say handing over the file to her.

“What is this?” V looks at you cluelessly.

“A deal is a deal, open it” you tell her as she opens the file and goes through the papers. Her eyes widened with shock as she finished reading the last page.

“What?! Are you serious?”

“I told you I’ll give your rightful share in the family so this is it” you stated.

“But you are giving me the rum and diamond business. That’s yours” she emphasized.

“I know but I don’t have the time or interest to run it and I can’t handle the business in New York while staying in London. Moreover, Tom has decided to start a chain of luxury resorts and since I have a management degree I’ll be helping him to expand it” you explain “so I’m entrusting you with our family businesses. Welcome to the family V” you look at her with a proud smile.

“I’ll not disappoint you” she promises.

“I know you won’t”

..................................................................................

If you want to send blurb requests based on the series I'm more than eager to write so send me your ideas. Also suggest me some cute baby names both girl and boy. I was thinking of going with Beatrice or April and Cole or Ben but would like to hear your opinions as well ❤️

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland imagines #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #mob! tom #mob! tom holland #tom holland fluff

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team-cap-for-the-win · 3 years

Note

Hi so i wanted to say few things just to get it out of my system.(im new to tumblr dont kno how this works whtvr)

i hate it when people put steve in this bubble of perfection. And i dont mean people who make heart eyes and claim steve is the perfect human being. The people whom im talking about is the ones who demand and expect steve to be that way, when he clearly never claimed he is perfect. When i put myself in steve's shoes, i realize how goddamn frustrating it'd be. People would be waiting for him to make a mistake so that they can prove he is this horrible human being(or at least a flawed person, which is such a high standard) people are allowed to have flaws and make mistakes bc it's in human nature and in steve's case i never see people realize it's like he has to be perfect bc hey he's captain america. I feel this way strongly specially in avengers 2012 when tony says steve is gonna do smt wrong and it's gonna blow up in his face AND he's gonna be there when it happens. Like tony WANTS steve to make a mistake so that he can watch and enjoy it(why? Bc of his unsolved daddy issues). It applies to the fandom too. Tony attacks bucky but hey, it's justified bc, tony creates ultron BUT!!! it!s again justified bc reasons(traumatized, ptsd,cares about his friends etc.). Wanda did such and such and such but it's ok to make mistakes. Tony shot sam but his friend was injured. Especially when you point these to t*ny st*rk stans theyr like: can't you just accept that some characters can be flawed make mistakes and move on!!!

But when it comes to steve and what happened in siberia people r like:HoW dARe STEvE MAke a miStAKe ??!! HE iS a HyPOcriTe, a tWo FaCEd BaSTard! HE DESERVES DEATHHHHH!

thank u for coming to my ted talk jkskdjdj i always wanted to say that.

HELLO THERE!! YES, I ABSOLUTELY AGREE!

First of all, welcome to tumblr! It's nice to see new Steve fans coming in :D I think you're gonna get the hang of it soon!

And yeah, I've made and reblogged many posts about this topic in the past. For some reason, people put Steve on a really high pedestal and he's not allowed to make mistakes because he's either a) perfect, and that means a mary sue, or b) the devil incarnate that is the root of all issues and the MCU. You can't have it both ways, guys.

The thing that upsets me the most is that yes, Steve made a mistake in Civil War by not telling Tony, but he not only regrets it, he also tries to own up to it, and apologises to Tony, which is something Tony has never done ever. And even then, people dunk on his apology letter for being badly written or not considerate or something.

It's just this incredibly high standard that he has to constantly live up to, and the moment he steps out of line, the fandom is ready to crucify him. It is very, very annoying. Thankfully, this side of the fandom has died out a lot, I think it experienced a high when Civil War came out. And then again with Endgame, and that hate is still around, but what can we do? Make good posts about Steve, since that's all we have left...

On that topic! In my opinion, it would be interesting to me if we were to translate this trend into the MCU (in fanfiction form, of course! Don't know if you read that sort of thing, but bear with me). That means: what if the people in the MCU act and treat Steve like the stans do? How many of them view him as perfect Captain America without looking at Steve Rogers? And how long can he go on like that, trying to live up to that title, and not fail or disappoint anyone? Steve is a character that has very often had a dichotomy between himself and his superhero persona, as can be seen in the comics. There were times he gave up the mantle, even going as far as claiming that: "It is time for Captain America to die, so that Steve Rogers can live."

Why am I telling you all this? Well, I would love to see more stories explore just how much pressure is put on him, and how he still endures it and doesn't give up. Additionally, we could have other characters realise what's going on, notice how hard he's pushing himself, talk about it, and support him when they find out just how unhappy he is, how out of sync he is with, well, being Steve.

If there was one thing missing in the MCU, it was more stress put on the distinction between Steve and Cap. I would have loved to see more of that, in canon or otherwise.

Anyway. I've been rambling for a while now and I hope you liked my idea, because in my opinion taking this bad faith reading and turning into something nice and thoughtful is the best way to combat these sorts of opinions ;)

Once again, welcome to tumblr, thanks for stopping by, and I hope you enjoy your stay here :D

(PS: you can check out the #pro steve rogers for more positivity!)

#imalwaysbored16 #asks #steve rogers #pro steve rogers #steve rogers defense squad

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lokissuper · 3 years

Text

Reunion| Dean Winchester x Reader

(So I made a post about this a while ago, this specific idea. Now that im starting to get into writing I thought why not do it myself. So, in this Dean and the reader are dating but also have a kid together. Also, the reader is like a daughter to john so he sees her as so. thx xxoo i will always take feedback and support since im new to this)

“Dean! Sam! I’m home,” I yelled when entering the bunker.

Walking down the steps from the door I saw that they around the table in the library. Dead sitting there drinking a beer and Sam looking down at something in his hands, I spoke again, “ Is that it? The thing that is gonna save Dean.”

“Yeah,” Sam said looking at me then over to Dean, “Are you sure you don’t want to call Mom or wait for Cas?”

Dead stood up,” No. If this mojo works like you say, that’s great. But if not...why get their hopes up? I mean you and Y/n being here is fine, I just don’t wan’t you getting your hopes up either.” Dead looked at me then back at Sam, I nodded at him for an okay.

“Yeah.” Sam whispered, “Just hold the pearl and concentrate on what your heart desires.”

Dean was handed the pearl, “Michael outta my head. Got it.” Picking up the pearl he looks at me for assurance.

“It’s gonna be fine baby, if it doesn’t work then we’ll figure something else out,” I nodded at him again.

He looked down at the pearl and closed him eyes shut, and squeezed the pearl in his hand. The electricity crackled, and Sam and I looked at each other as Dean eyes open again. The lights in the bunker turned red, “What the hell?” I spoke quietly. As Sam turned around he saw a dark figure and he lunged at it, me following behind him. The figure punched Sam and I attacked from behind along with Dean, we got a couple of hits in before the mysterious person knocked us to the ground. I groaned, hitting the wood floor but I got over it soon as I heard a gun cock.

“Don’t you move,” the dark figure threatened.

We all looked at each other then the lights turned back on, we looked up at the man before us. I saw Deans eyes widened and I took a sharp intake of breath, same as Sam.

“Dad?” Dean asked in question.

“John?” I whispered.

The older Winchester looked in question at the three of us on the floor. He finally spoke up,” Dean? Sam? What in the hell? Y/n?” He looked around himself, puzzled at what he found. Sam and Dean slowly got up, Dean helping me up too.

John continued to speak,”Sammy. Aren’t you supposed to be in Palo Alto?”

“Palo Alto?” Sammy repeated, looking taken aback by the words.

“What happened to you,” John questioned.

Dean and I still staring at the exchange, Dean finally spoke up,” What year is it?”

John scoffs at us,” Its 2003.” I took a tiny step toward him, the man who raised me. “John, it’s 2019,” I spoke in shock. He looked skeptical at all of us, not believing the words that were just said.

“No. How?”

Sam started to sound a little louder, finally finding his voice,” We, uh, I think we summoned you.”

He looked at us like we were crazy,” You guys better tell me what the hell is going on right now.” We nodded at him, actually moving at this point.

“I think we should sit down.” I looked at him.

We had made our way to the kitchen and sat down at the table, finally able to catch our breaths after what just happened. Dean and I grabbing some alcohol knowing it would be needed for the future conversation. I knew in the back of my head that Mary was gonna come home soon, and it would be an emotional mess. She had left earlier with Dean and I’s son, wanting to have a day with him.

Dean and I made our way into the kitchen setting down the whiskey and some glasses. Finally sitting down, Dean poured all of us a glass getting ready to talk.

After telling John about what happened after Yellow-Eyes, sparing the details about Mary and our son. He sat back to take it in, a moment later he spoke,” So, you saved the world? More than once?”

We nodded.

“Then its all true. God, the Devil, and you kids smack in the middle. Now you live in a secret bunker with an angel and Lucifer’s kid.” John said, mind boggled.

“Yeah.” We all spoke together.

“And you’ve done this whole time travel thing before?” John asked.

“A few times,” I looked at him. Dean nodded to my words, finding words himself,” Actually, our grandfather, your dad he’s the one that helped us find this place. I think he’d be real happy to know your finally here.”

They started to talk about the Men of Letters and how Dean and Sam were legacies. John not being able to believe how much we have been through, he spoke” I just wish that I had been there to see it. I went out takin’ out Yellow Eyes. I mean, that was the point, right? Get the thing that killed Mom.” He sipped on his drink nodding. All of us looking at each other, Sam and Dean finally catching on to the fact Mary could be home any minute. Just as Sam was going to tell John, we heard two pairs of footsteps.

“ Mommy!” I heard a tiny voice yell. I then saw my sons little face peak out and run towards Dean and I.

“Hey baby! Did you have fun?” I smiled at the small child in my arms.

“Yeah, me and Nana went shopping,” He spoke back to me.

John looked between me and the 4 year old in my arms. He spoke lowly,” Mommy? You have a kid?”

“Yeah, he’s your grandson.” I heard my boyfriend spoke from beside me.

John got teary eyed, “What’s his name? How old is he?”

“His names John Robert Winchester, after you and Bobby. But we do call him Johnny from time to time. Why don’t you show your Papa how old you are?” I asked with tears starting to grow in my eyes too.

Johnny lifted up his fingers showing the number four. I laughed and so did John,” That’s good.”

John smiled at his grandson, but it faltered when he heard a second voice coming from the hallway.

“Sam? Dean? Johnny?” Mary’s voice shouted.

Johns eyes got soft,”Mary?” He turned around at saw Mary standing in the doorway. They locked eyes with each other and they walked toward one another, sharing a kiss. I looked at Sam and Dean nodding at the door, trying to say we should give them some time.

I departed from the boys so I could go into mine and Deans room with Johnny. I still couldn’t believe that John was back and how happy Dean must be. It was all he ever wanted, I couldn’t count how many times he told me he wished he could just have one night with his family again. I looked down at Johnny in my arms and smiled.

“Mommy, who was that man with Nana?” he asked me.

I set him down on the bed and sat in front of him.,” That was your grandpa John. I told you that you were named after your Papa, right?” Johnny nodded at me. “Well that was him. Him and Nana are like me and your Daddy.” I spoke to him.

Dead then walked into the room locking eyes with me. “Hey buddy,” Dean spoke softly to his son. Johnny looked at me and then at his Dad, “Is Papa John here to meet me Daddy?”

Dean looked at Johnny and smiled, kneeling down beside me he said,” Your grandfather travels all over the world and is very busy. He has always wanted to meet you, and now he finally is able to see you.”

Johnny smiled,” Can I go see him?” Dean and I nodded at the happy child sitting in front of us. Dean stood up and told me that he was gonna go check up on his Mom, and that I could bring Johnny to John.

I walked through the hallways into the Library and saw that John was looking at the books on the shelves. I set Johnny down, and at the noise John turned around. I looked at him in the eye and smiled, Johnny walked over to his grandpa. “Mommy told me that I was named after you,” Johnny spoke up to John. He nodded to his grandson,”Seems that way doesn’t it.”

I walked up to John and said to him,” He is just like Dean in so many ways and with that I can see some of you too. Mostly the stubbornness. ” He smiled at me, and brought me into a hug. I grinned wrapping my arms around him, I heard him say,” It was about damn time you and Dean got together.” I laughed and pulled myself away from him.

“Yeah, I think after what happened with Yellow Eyes it brought us closer together. He tried to pull himself away like he always does but I wouldn’t let him, and I think that’s what caused us to get together.” I sighed but continued on,” We were dating 8 years and then had Johnny, it still blows my mind four years later and we are still going strong.” John smiled at me.

He looked down at Johnny but still spoke to me,” After 12 years and he still hasn’t popped the question. God, I’m gonna need to get on him about that.” I laughed at him. John looked down at Johnny and spoke to him,” You have the best mother and father in the world. Don’t you forget that.”

Johnny nodded his head,” I know. They always tell me you are the best like Nana.” John looked at me and smiled.

“No, your Nana is better than me in every way.” John laughed at the little boy, me laughing along with him.

I looked over at John,” Do you know where Sam went?”

“Him and Dean were gonna head out and grab some stuff for that casserole Mary likes to make,” he responded.

I nodded.

I bent down toward Johnny and spoke lightly, “How about you and Papa John go and hang out for a while.”

Johnny smiled wide,” Okay!”

He grabbed his grandfather by the hand and led him away. I smiled softly at the image now burned in my brain.

“I can’t believe this, we just got him back Dean.” I spoke sternly. “Johnny finally met his grandfather.”

Dean had pulled me aside when him and Sam got back explaining how everything is changing now that John was back.

“I know. But there is something else too,” He looked down at his feet. I looked at him sternly.

“What else?” I asked.

Dean took in a sharp breath before continuing on,” If he stays, it is gonna be like Mom was never here. It’s because we would have never clashed heads with God or the Darkness.” I got teary eyed and tried to say something but Dean held up his hand. He began to speak again,” Also, if he stays Sam thinks that Johnny’s gonna go too. Like you and I never got together because we only ever got together because of Dads death. I already talked to Dad about it.”

I started to silently cry thinking about not having Johnny and not being with Dean. As the tears were falling down my face I asked,” What did John say?”

He pulled me to his chest,”He said that he’s okay with going. That there is no way he is gonna be the reason his grandson can’t grow up, or Mom not being alive again.”

I looked up at him crying harder now, seeing he starting to shed tears too.

“This sucks,” I said.

“I know, but it’s what he wants.” Dean responded.

I leaned forward and pecked him on the lips then nodded, “Okay.”

Dean then pecked mine back before saying, “ I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

We had sat down for dinner, something I knew Dean had always wanted. It was hard to avoid the inevitable but it was good to just be carefree for a while.

When it was time for John to go back, I had Johnny say goodbye before telling him to go to his room. Me and Dean still not wanting him to be exposed to magic yet.

Dean, Sam, John, Mary and I all stood in a circle together, ready to see him off. All of us teary eyed and trying to hold in sobs.

Mary was the first to speak up, “I hate this.”

In which John responded, “So do I.”

John then began to talk to all of us,” Okay.” Looking over at Mary he spoke,”My girl. I miss you so damn much.” Before they kissed each other, for the last time. John then looked at the boys,” You two. You take care of each other.”

Sam responded,” We always do.”

Dean spoke lightly, “It’s good to see you Dad.”

John sniffled, looking between his sons, “ I am so proud of you boys.” He then turned to me, seeing me there crying.

“And you, I am so proud of the woman you have become. Your no longer that little teenager anymore.” he spoke wiping his eyes before looking between Dean and I.

“You guys deserve each other and that little boy in there. I never thought I would see the day where Dean would grow some balls and ask you out but, here we are,” he said as we all laughed. “You guys take care of that boy, you here me,” John continued.

He then looked sternly at Dean,” If I have to come back just to make sure you finally ask this woman to marry you, I will.”

We all laughed again. John then leaned forward and brought the three of us into a hug.

“I love you guys so much.”

Dean sniffled before saying,”We love you too.”

John pulled away telling us he was ready. He looked at us all one last time, before Sam broke the pearl. We watched as the man we all loved faded away.

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sunflowersteves · 4 years

Text

meetings || s.r.

summary || steve had a meeting and you had a mission to ruin it.

prompt || “Come here and sit on my lap.”

author’s note || I just realized I’m posting this on Sunday lmao oops? Congrats again to @aesthetical-bucky on 1K! That’s a huge milestone and I know you haven’t been as active but i hope you’re all good! Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it!

warnings || smut with no plot (pls wear protection), daddy!kink, cockwarming, vaginal sex, public sex, daddy!steve, a bit of overstimulation, squirting, creampie, this is very filthy i ain’t going to lie to you guys

Masterlist

Steve pushed up the glasses that were falling off of the bridge of his nose. Warm, fresh coffee and vanilla flavored creamer lifted up into his nose. It smelled like pure bliss and he smiled just a bit as he knew who was making the batch. You were always the last one to wake up in the morning, most of the Avengers were morning people.

The smile spread wider across his face at the thought of you lurking around the kitchen with bedhead hair and one of his oversized t-shirts. He turned back to his stack of reports on the table and tried to concentrate on getting them done. In about twenty minutes, there was going to be an important meeting with everyone in his office and he wanted nothing to do afterward but spend the rest of the day with his girl.

His heart couldn’t help but palpitate as he could hear the soft pads of your feet hit the hardwood floors, trotting quietly over to his office. He tried to concentrate on the work in front of him but his mind couldn’t help his mind going into thoughts only about his infatuation with you.

You peaked over into his office and saw him intently working on some paperwork. You stood there for just a bit, contemplating going into the room further to bother him but before you could speak yourself, his gruff voice stood prominent in the spacious room. “Come here and sit on my lap.” You tipped a smile and slowly walked over to him, placing yourself into his lap.

His beard tickled your neck which made you slightly giggle. His strong arms wrapped around your torso and your back hit his chest. He tried to go back to his work, he could feel your eyes on his hands which made him silently chuckle. You had always loved his large calloused hands. You loved watching them flip the pages of books or grip an iced coffee or grip your neck.

The deep, warming smell of your arousal made his heart thump and stomach flip over. He could hear your fast, steady breaths, and rapid heartbeat that made his mind feel fuzzy. Before he could do anything your voice flooded through his ears. “Can you put your cock in me, daddy?”

He practically groaned at the soft innocence caressing the squeak of your voice. He knew the little game, and you were very much not innocent. But he wanted this as much as you did.

“Of course, babygirl.” He lifted you up for a second to take his cock out and then he sat you back down, opening your folds with the tip of his cock. The oversized t-shirt spilling all around his thighs, the two of you were groaning quietly.

He had filled you up so perfectly, his length and thickness had touched you in all the right places. The two of you just sat like that keeping each other warm and fuzzy. He continued doing his work, occasionally writing on the pieces of paper and putting them on another stack of papers.

You had whined into his neck a couple of times when he would shift his body a little bit. He chuckled and told you to wait which of course you obeyed. You had gotten punished last night, and the teasing was relentless so you were determined to behave. The feeling of his hard cock resting between your aching pussy made your heart swoon. Your daddy knew exactly how to take care of you and what you wanted. It was almost soothing, the teasing of his tip sometimes going into just the right place and your walls keeping him heated.

His eyes widened a bit as he looked at the clock on his desk and sighed. “What’s wrong, daddy?” He took the pair of glasses off of his face and placed it on the desk. “I have a meeting in two minutes-”

“Oh, I’ll just-” You were about to stand up and get off of his lap but he grabbed your hips and pulled you back down. “Don’t, babydoll. There is no way in hell I’m letting those idiots take away our time.” You smiled and nodded, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

He shifted your body so that you were now facing him, your breasts pressing firmly against his broad chest. You placed your face into his neck, occasionally pressing some kisses. His body froze a bit as the first person arrived which was Sam, Bucky, and Wanda.

“Why is y/n here? Is she okay?” Steve’s heavily laced innocence made your eyes widen a bit. “No, she says she’s not feeling well. She thinks it may have been the food she ate yesterday. She wanted a bit of comfort.” His salty voice was tied with concern and sadness. Damn, he was good. You could practically picture his creased eyebrows and pouty lips.

The rest of the Avengers and some Agents had all arrived and the meeting began. He and the others started talking about some plan with destroying Hydra but you were barely listening. Your ears were ringing at Steve’s even harder cock pressing up against that savoring spot. You bit onto his neck, trying to restrain yourself from moaning for everyone to hear.

Your juices started running up and down his cock, making him slick and wet. He could hear your small, tiny whimpers that escaped your throat occasionally. He had to close his eyes for a second in fear that he would stop everything and take you right here. You wanted him so badly and he wasn’t even moving. You wanted him to the point of it sounding like you were in pain from the loss of friction.

You bit your lip as you just couldn’t take it anymore, your pussy was pulsating at this point for anything to happen. “We’ll have to infiltrate-” You started to move your hips slightly, making dure to get the grinding you needed but not enough to get caught. Your movements had made Steve completely stop his sentence and he had to cover it up with a cough.

“Oh, shit. Are you getting sick too, old man?” He shook his head as he took a deep breath and glared at Bucky’s knowing look. He could hear and smell the two of you, making him roll his eyes as he walked into the room.

“I’m okay, Sam. Thanks.” He continued to try as hard as he could to not make any movements to give away that you were slowly riding him. Your mouth pressed small kisses up and down his neck, it was agonizingly slow so the spit of your tongue wasn’t too loud. His hand moved slowly, moving your skirt up so he could fit his hand inside.

You had to bite your lip even harder at his hand circling your clit and folds. He groaned very loudly at your wetness covering his whole finger. He wanted to be proud, his babygirl was getting all riled up at just his cock being inside of you but then he froze at the realization. Everybody was staring at him, wide eyes at his groan almost sounding animalistic. Luckily though, Bucky was there to explain.

“I think even Steve may be getting sick. Maybe we should have a meeting another time.” Everybody packed up their things and left the office without another word. Bucky quickly mouthed ‘you owe me’ while smirking and walking out the door, shutting the door behind him.

Steve halted your movements, making you gasp. He harshly grabbed your cheeks, pulling your face towards him. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you? You wanted Daddy to take you in front of everyone, want them to know that you’re mine.” You yelped in surprise when his hand came in contact with your ass, slapping it harshly. Steve took you immediately off of his lap to your dismay and cries but he surprisingly then pinned you onto the desk. The ruffling and crinkling of the papers were sounded as they hit your back.

“You want daddy’s cock, don’t you, babydoll?” You nodded vigorously as he leaned a bit closer, his prominent now clothed cock pressing up against your wet pussy. “Then daddy’s going to give you what you want.” Your eyes widened at the sound of his buckle hitting the floor. Normally, you would be punished for this kind of thing but Steve seemed to give you what you wanted this time. He was lightning fast, his lips connected with yours. The kiss was rough and passionate with teeth clashing and his tongue fighting against yours.

“Since you love disobeying me, This time, I’m going to give you exactly what you want.” He didn’t even pull your skirt down before ramming his cock between your folds. It made you cry out so loud, you thought the whole compound heard you. He moved your legs so that they were wrapped around his hips.

He inserted his cock again, going at a very fast and hard pace, not taking any mercy as his moans filled the air. “You wanted daddy’s cock so badly that you disobeyed me. I’ve told you before that you don’t move unless I tell you to.” Your back moved back and forth on the large desk and your whimpered cries were loud. You barely nodded at him and his eyes were only trained on you.

He slapped your ass harshly, pain, and pleasure all blending into one. “d-daddy!” He could feel your walls clenching already and he smiled a bit. “P-please, daddy!” He grunted and continued at the fast pace with his cock touching your sweet spot. You tried to hold it in a bit, not wanting Steve to be mad if you came too soon. You never wanted to disappoint Steve but his facial expression seemed to swell with satisfaction. “Daddy, can I come? Please?” He grunted as the click sounds of his cock going into your pussy was luscious and mouth-watering.

“Yes, baby. Don’t hold it in. Come on my cock.” You screamed out his name as loud as you could, your body convulsing at the pleasure Steve was sending you to. That little bundle of nerves your belly had locked in had fully made its release and you were seeing stars.

However, Steve never halted his movements, he was still pounding into you, hard and fast. You had just come so the sensations of his cock started to get a little too much.“Daddy, I-I can’t-” He shushed you gently, but the two of you knew that you could. You could never get tired of his cock pleasuring your holes. “You can, baby. My sweet girl can come all over my cock again, can’t she?” You nodded and gasped, gripping the sides of the desk harshly.

“D-daddy I-” His forehead connected to yours as he whispered sweet nothings and praises into your ears. Your orgasm never wasted time again, that sweet knot came undone. But this time you squirted all over his cock, rushing water released all over him. His eyes snapped towards yours and his mouth was agape. You were almost embarrassed, you hadn’t meant to come so hard that water gushed out of you. “Look at you, babydoll. Daddy’s so proud.”

However, unbeknownst to you, Steve had thought it was the hottest thing he had ever seen. He thought about your sweet wetness that was all over his cock and even a little got onto his shirt. A large grunt left his mouth as he came into your pussy. His come was deep inside you and dripping out from your beautiful pussy. His cock was sheen looking from your juices spread all around it. He looked like he was glowing with pride which made you swoon.

However, that all halted when his eyes became dark and solid, a prominent smirk caressing his features. “You’re going to be punished, you moved without asking. But don’t worry, we have all night, babydoll.”

Permanent Taglist: @captainchrisstan @angstysebfan

#aesthetical-bucky1kchallenge #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #daddy!steve #daddy!steve rogers #daddy!kink #dom!steve rogers #sub!reader #captain america #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #steve rogers smut #smut #overstimulation #dom!steve rogers x sub!reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel

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ginanosakka · 4 years

Text

The Mind of a Monster

Masterlist

I’m Sorry | Next

“Daddy, why does everyone look like that?” Your young and bright eyes stared up at your father’s, his own having no light or warmth in them, not even as he looked at you.

The smile that crept onto his face scared you, but you smiled back nonetheless like the naive little girl you were, just wanting to return your father’s love. In truth, you had been scared the moment you entered his company office, the automatic shift in energy when he walked in the room from all his employees had you fiddling with your fingers and doing your best to avoid eye contact. It was confusing to you why he wanted you to come with him today to introduce you to his work, but he never greeted anyone or even acknowledged their existence.

You wished you had paid closer attention and broken from his leash sooner.

“My dear, you’ll learn soon enough that these are inferior beings, and how they feel mean nothing when it comes to success.”

Sitting in a conference room filled with heroes was one thing, but sitting in a conference room full of heroes being debriefed on your secret criminal business father was another. Seeing all of these familiar faces made your palms sweaty and an anxious shiver go down your spine. They were all the former class 1-A students who met your father —whether that was by coincidence of scheduling, or these were the ones who couldn’t believe the case at hand, you didn’t know. None of them were as close as Mina and Katsuki so this truthfully had nothing to do with the past, but everything to do with the present news that came out not too long ago.

They were helping to protect their old friend’s child, and his now speculated ‘wife’.

“. . . I can’t give you any more information than that, the old bastard has all of his dirty work under security, but there’s someone who can.” Katsuki said, and you looked up at him from your spot next to Ashido and Kirishima, vacating your thoughts to meet his eyes that had landed on you. “Y/N.” He called, and you stood up from your seat.

You glanced at them all again, taking note of their very clear interest while finding the words to help them understand what you knew. It wasn’t just the ones who you had just seen again for the first time in years, this was also information and a plan that you had not run through with Katsuki, Mina, or Eijirou who had discussed this meeting with you beforehand. Whether it was because all three of them looked so concerned with your safety that your plan would positively not be received well, or simply because you yourself weren’t prepared to put everything at stake wasn’t abundantly clear.

A warm and soft hand grabbed hold of yours from where you stood, and you glanced at Mina to see her smiling with encouragement. “Don’t worry, I’ll have your back, ‘kay?” She said, and you squeezed her hand.

“Okay then. First things first, I want you all to know that I haven’t had contact with him since the last year you have all seen me, not even money related. When I was in close contact with him, I was unaware of any illegal actions he’d done until I was kicked out. Are there any questions on that?” You began, doing your best to get the most obvious questions out of the way first.

The eight heroes in the room — Tokoyami, Sero, Kaminari, Todoroki, Uraraka, Ashido, Kirishima, and Bakugou — all glanced at each other for a moment, and two hands went up: Todoroki, Kaminari. You looked to Todoroki first, his dual colored eyes piercing into yours like he knew you. From what you remembered from all that hero news Ryu loved, he had his own personal family issues that ended up public information. Honestly, you didn’t know if he was looking at you like that because he related to you, or was greatly suspicious of you. Either way, you nodded at him to voice his questions first.

“Did your father use you to fulfill his own goals?”

“Todoroki, let’s stick to questions that have something to do with the crimes and just her father.” Kirishima sweatdropped, and you could see Katsuki’s expression from the corner of your eye that looked like he wanted to send an AP shot right through his left side.

‘Never let him ask me anything, good to know.’

“Kami- Chargebolt, you had a question.” You redirected the attention to Denki who looked as done with Todoroki as the rest of the group, but once you called on him he refocused on you.

“If you knew he was doing illegal stuff at some point, why didn’t you say anything to the police before?” He asked.

The air became thick in the room, and all of them looked at you with their full attention once again, and that’s how you needed it to answer that. What they were about to take on may not be physically exhausting as a villain, but the mental toll this could take would be something they’d never forget. Their images will forever be changed in the media, and they’ll never look at those who run this world the same when you expose to them the man that they’d only met as a hopeful teenager. This was a man who would stop at nothing to stay on top, even going as far as to threaten his own blood’s life to ensure silence.

“When I got kicked out of my home, pregnant and a disgrace to him, he realized that I may not have known much about how the underground business he did, but I could easily stain his image by telling my story. About a month after I was kicked out, when I was two months pregnant, a man showed up at the hotel I was staying at and attempted to kill my baby. I survived with bruises and a stab wound that entered just between my rib cage instead of directly into my stomach. That man was hired by my father to kill me. . my mother had come to the hospital to break that news to me. She is the reason another attempt hadn’t been made on my life, but it was at the cost of me disappearing and never returning again.” You laid out the full story, sparing gruesome details but not leaving any room for confusion or continued suspicion.

Denki looked horrified as he tried to apologize, “I didn’t think he did something like that to you. I’m-“

You cut him off with a raised hand, “that’s why you’re here now. No one knows how evil Eito L/N is, because he’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing to the public. This isn’t your routine evidence and arrest case, and if you think there’s a low that my dear old father won’t reach to make me disappear, you’re going to end up dead, or so far in the gutter of negative media attention that your career will be over in days. You’re going to find out information that will destroy the relationship between you and the men that have made you heroes. As we speak, he is most likely ten steps ahead of us all and expecting us to move as quietly as we can for the sake of your licenses and my business.” You explained, and Uraraka stood up in distress.

“Then we should be looking for evidence! Doesn’t this mean you could be being followed right now? Why are we sitting here discussing it?” She asked, and you nodded in agreement at her words.

“You’re right, but there’s a quick end to this that only I can do at the risk of my own life. . I didn’t go over this with any of you, and I deeply apologize for the trouble I will soon be causing, but I can’t let all of you save my life while I lay down and cower with my son.”

You whipped out your phone and searched up the first news outlet that came to mind, and just as you expected, your video was being played as you spoke. You laid it out on the table after turning the sound up, watching the video you had recorded last night played to the public.

“I am Y/N L/N, the daughter of a very well known man, Eito L/N. Six years ago, he told the public that I went overseas in search of a different life, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. In actuality, six years ago, Eito kicked me out of his home after finding out I was pregnant and used that story to cover up my disappearance. I have since been living on my own with no help or contact from my father, and I urge all of you to look closer at those in power and wealth. You have no idea what they could be doing behind closed doors. Thank you.” You turned your phone off and slipped in back in your pocket as they all took in what you had done, and it was of course Katsuki who spoke up first.

“What the hell did you do?!” He growled, and you met his concerned and angry eyes with frightening intent.

“I’m making this a media circus, Dyanmight,” you smiled.

“You’re drawing him out, but why? Won’t that make this worst?” Tokoyami asked, but you weren’t the one to answer.

“He doesn’t know what she’s going to do. . she’s making it impossible to keep his tracks covered.” Todoroki looked at you, and you both nodded at each other in complete understanding. “Y/N just made this a lot easier for us.”

A/N: I was gonna keep dad’s name neutral, but it just didn’t make sense that they all would constantly refer to him as her father. So evil dad’s name is Eito! This is pretty much a small filler before we reach our real drama and end. I can’t promise a soon update and the hiatus is still very much in motion, but I wanted to get this out to you. I hope you enjoy!

Taglist (Closed) <3 : @fandomgirllover @cloudsgathering @that-bipolar-renegade-romantic @jazzylove @that-chick212 @bonbonthedragon @misssugarless @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @bakugous-bakahoe @pinkykookie17 @animexholic @arielting @samkysnks @simpforeveryone @damnirina @deneuves @tsumuuumiyaaaa @vintage-teddyxo @regalmigraine @samvmgh @iamagalaxy @officialtrashbusiness @xwackk @videogameboiwhowins @marajillana @ellasdilemma @plutoneu @saucey-kneecapzz42020 @thestarsanctuary @dewdropwifu @star-light-imagines @kritiiiii @bakugosbottombitch @the2ndl @candybabey @simply-not-the-same @sam-i-am-1025 @mes-bisous @eternallyvenus @peppytine @chaelysian @definitely-yours @oikawarc @suneaterofthebig3 @m0na-l0ver @nkb0048 @losertsukki @notyourfavorlte @caramelsquares @hikaru-mikazuki

#bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #bnha #bakugo x reader #x reader #bnha fanfiction #bnha angst #katsuki bakugo x y/n #anime x reader #bnha x reader #bnha kirishima #kirishima x reader

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rachaelswrites · 4 years

Text

Nicknames

A/N: I didn’t include all actors/characters but if you want one just send it in and I’ll do it. I’ll start including these in my writing

~~~~~~

Here are some nicknames that each of the reader’s have been given

Sebastian Stan “prinţesă”

-Obviously, its Romanian

-There were a few he tried out with you when you were younger but this one stuck for multiple reasons:

-You were a major daddy’s girl (still are) and you pretty much got anything you wanted. You were almost on the verge of spoiled brat

-It also didn’t help that you had a very huge liking for Disney and it’s princesses

-Those dresses with the matching shoes? You had almost all of them

-He called you that until you grew out of your princess obsession, saving it for certain times

-The first time you ended a long term friendship was the first time he used it in years. He’d either call you by your name or something more generic like “Sweetheart”

-You came home visibly upset and ran right into your dad’s arms

-You’d never been this upset before so he said it, hoping in some way it would calm you down

“It’s alright Prinţesă, I’ve got you”

-When it worked that time, he did it again after your first break up.

-You were more angry than sad this time

-He had to hold you down on the couch so you couldn’t hurt anyone

“Prinţesă, calm down. He’s not worth a criminal record

-He used it on days when you were sick or were feeling down

-Maybe even if you were in trouble

-You and him both thought by the age of sixteen, you would hate the nickname but surprisingly, you liked it even more

Chris Evans “peanut”

-Another case of daddy’s girl

-This one comes from several trips to Red Sox’s games

-Chris wanted to get you into sports when you were young (just to watch, not necessarily to play)

-He took you and Scott to one of the first games of the season and he bought peanuts, in his true American way

-You were seated in between him and Scott

-Both of them were sharing the bag while you had ice cream

-Peanuts were a new food for you and you wanted to try them. You grabbed a handful of them and copied your dad’s movements to crack open the shells

-You ate like twenty in less than a minute

-You loved them so much and that’s how that name happened

-Unlike the others, Chris uses this name pretty regularly

-You didn’t mind how often he used it until he started using it on front of your friends

“Hey peanut, do you guys need anything?”

“Dad! That’s embarrassing”

-Your face went bright red and for the rest of the day, your friends teased you (in a loving, joking way)

-Chris realized his small mistake and was a little more careful about when he used it

-Scott called you it once and you swear, you never saw your dad move so quickly

“She’s my peanut, not yours. Find your own nickname”

-Anytime he posts a picture of you on Twitter/Instagram, he used that name instead of your own

Matthew Gray Gubler “munchkin”

-Three words

-Wizard. Of. Oz.

-You had a very weird obsession with this movie. It’s almost embarrassing looking back at it now

-By the time you were three, you knew all the words (as best as you could) to all the songs

-Matthew was about to lose his mind because he had the songs in his head as well, twenty-four-seven.

-You would talk and talk about how much you wanted to go to Munchkin land and be a Munchkin

-It also didn’t help that at the time, you were probably close to the same height

-Sadly, as you got older, you and your dad learned you didn’t develop his height

-You were a whopping 5’2 at the age of fifteen

-And the name stuck

-He knew you weren’t super fond of the name but somehow, it always cheered you up

-If you had a tough day at school, he’d sit on the couch and let you vent

“Let it all out Munchkin”

-You secretly did like the name (even though the origins were embarrassing)

-Matthew never let you live down that obsession

-When you were on set and he called you that, everyone asked why.

“Matthew, why do you call her Munchkin?”

“Dad, don’t do it”

“She was obsessed with The Wizard of Oz”

-He also very rarely referred to you as “Y/n” on social media, opting for Munchkin instead

-Trying to get back at him, you tried to come up with some ridiculous name for him

“I’m going to call you dancer. Cause that’s how you broke your knee”

-That one didn’t last long but Munchkin sure did

Tom Holland “bubs or darling”

-Tom gets two because I can’t pick

-Bubs is because you are the baby out of all of the brothers

-It was also because before you could say any brother’s name, you just called them bubs

-Sam, Harry, and Paddy also called you Bubs. They still call you that sometimes so Tom wanted to try something new

-When you were about five or six, he accidentally called you darling

-It wasn’t a typical brother/sister name but it suited you

-You were such a kind person and your favorite movie to watch with Tom was Peter Pan

-And the last name of Wendy was Darling, so he thought it fitted

-When he called you darling, it was mostly after he came home from filming

“I missed you so much Darling”

-You liked the meaning behind your nickname

-Tom used Bubs if you weren’t feeling like yourself

-Whether it was a bad day or if you were sick

“Take some medicine Bubs” or “Bubs, tell me what’s going on”

-He hated the others calling him Tommy but for you, he’d let you do it anytime you wanted

-Literally, you were the only person he let you call him Tommy

-But he was the only person who could call you Darling

Bucky Barnes “doll”

-Classic

-This one is pretty self explanatory

-It was common during your childhood but once you were in the 21st century, Bucky couldn’t part with it

-It reminded him of the past (in a good way) and he always wanted to relive those memories

-You were eight when HYDRA took him and then you

-The name reminded him of when you were little, and it reminded you too

-While Bucky was in Wakanda, he’d send you letters once he woke up

“Hey Doll, I miss you so much. Hopefully we can see each other soon”

-You kept them all with you

-And when The Snap happened, you’d read those letters back to yourself everyday

“The sunset was really pretty today Doll, it reminded me of the ones from when you were little”

-After those five years, that was the first thing he said to you

“I’m glad you’re safe Doll”

-It only took one time for Sam to tease you about it before you threatened to hurt him

“You make fun of it one more time and I swear it’ll be the last”

-Sam didn’t really understand why that name meant so much to you

-Bucky had to explain it to him

-It was really one of the only things you had left of your childhood

-And it was the one thing you could hold onto for the rest of your life

Ransom Drysdale “princess”

-Again, I think this one is self explanatory and obvious

-You’re spoiled, no doubt about it

-The name actually came from Meg

-She was a few years older than you and she was so used to being the only girl in the family

-And now she had to deal with you

-The reason she called you that was pretty stupid in the first place but as an eight year old, it didn’t matter to her

-You had spilled your drink on her by accident and onto her new shoes

-She went red in the face and started screaming in your face. You burst into tears

-You were only four and Ransom had never raised his voice at you. It was a new experience for you

-All the adults came into the room and walked into the scene of Meg screaming and you crying

-Ransom scooped you up and told Meg off

-Of course Joni took her daughter’s side but no one else did, making her mad

“She never gets in trouble. She’s such a princess”

-After that incident, your dad only used that name just to piss everyone off

-Like there was no need for him to but he just did it

“Princess, come here”

-In general, Ransom liked to show you off and the nickname Princess was the best way to do that

-As you got older, he felt weird using it. Meg had finally gotten over herself and everyone accepted the fact that your dad was spoiling you rotten

-You didn’t need a name to show that

-But as you got older, the issues in the family and all the problems started to weigh down on you

-There was so much drama that happened at family dinners, you were completely drained and exhausted once you got home

-Ransom could tell something was up so he reached into his bag of good parenting skills (which he definitely had, which shocked everyone) and called you Princess for the first time in ten years

“Princess, please tell me what’s wrong”

-For some reason, that one name made everything better for you

-Ransom noticed the small improvement in your mood so he kept calling you that on the daily

“How was school today Princess?”

-And in front of the family again

“Princess, it’s time to go”

-This name was literally just used to show the other Thrombey’s that you and your dad were better than them

-Of course though, you didn’t need a nickname to see that

Spencer Reid “squirt”

-Another name based on an obsession

-But this one can be blamed on Garcia

-While Spencer was on a case one time, she was in charge of watching you

-To keep you entertained while at the BAU, she put on Finding Nemo

-That was a mistake

-From that point on, you had a weird fascination with sea turtles, because of Squirt

-Once Spencer got back, you would not shut up about turtles

“Daddy, look what I just read”

-He was glad you found something you were interested in. He sort of hoped you would find something closer to a more “normal” topic but he would never stop you from learning

-Spencer wasn’t sure how the name fell onto you but once it did, he didn’t stop using it

-He generally used it in the apartment with just you and him

“Squirt, can you pick your toys up for me?” or as you were older “Squirt, can you grab those books for me?”

-He used it a lot when you felt stressed and you weren’t telling him

-So whenever he called you that, you knew you might as well tell him

“Tell me what’s going on Squirt”

-It was such a small gesture but it really did help you

-He tried to explain why it probably made you feel better but you weren’t too interested in the science behind it

-The only time he used it in front of the team is when he got back from a case

-You always met him at the BAU (he made sure you were there to greet him)

-You would stand in front of the elevator and wait for the doors to open

-And when they did, you ran into his arms and he wrapped them around your body

“I missed you Squirt”

-The team absolutely adored that nickname but knew to never call you that, unless they wanted an angry Reid on their hands

Emily Prentiss “love”

-To me, Emily just has European vibes and so does this nickname

-Probably because Emily grew up in Europe, she developed this habit of calling you Love

-The parents of her friends growing up used that name

-She sort of just picked up on it, starting when she first held you in the hospital

“Hi Love, I’m your momma”

-It’s such a simple but meaningful name to her

-You were truly the one person she loved the most (even her mom and even Sergio)

-Speaking of, once she brought Sergio home you started calling him that as well

-You were only four and didn’t understand the concept but Emily didn’t stop you

“Hi Wove”

-Emily never used this in front of people unless something was wrong

-As you got older, it was used more as a reassurance for you

-Her “death” was really hard on you and every case, she would check in

-Lots of the time, the phone calls were short and around the other members of the team

“Hi Love, I miss you. The team says hi”

“I miss you too momma”

-Very rarely would she use it in normal, everyday conversation

-If you were visiting the office, sometimes it would slip out

“Hey Love, are you doing your homework?”

-In front of the team, she used names like “baby” or “honey”

-Love was strictly reserved for just you and her

Jennifer Jareau “bug”

-First thing to know

-If anyone besides JJ called you Bug, even Will, she would literally rip their heads off

-This name was super personal to her and she didn’t want the meaning to be ruined

-You had taken after her love and fascination with butterflies

-Except you hadn’t learned the word butterfly so you just called them bugs, hence the nickname

-JJ only called you two things “Y/n” and “Bug”

-Nothing else

-At one point, Will was convinced that she might’ve forgotten your first name because she called you Bug so much

“JJ, she has a first name you know”

“I know, I think Bug fits her better”

-She did attempt to get your name changed, but to be fair, she was drunk when that happened

-She didn’t care that as you got older, the name was a little embarrassing, especially around your friends

“I’ll pick you up at seven Bug”

“Mom! Really? In front of my friends?”

-Your brothers for awhile thought your name was Bug, because she really only called you that at home

“Do you need help with your homework Bug?” or “Bug, can you set the table?”

-You didn’t realize the meaning behind the nickname until she explained it to you

-And once you did, the name meant so much more to you

-Will helped you pick out a matching necklace set of two butterflies

-You gave it to her after a case and she cried, knowing exactly what it’s meaning was

“Thank you Bug, I love it”

-She never took that necklace off, ever

Taglist

@ssebstann @peachyprincessss @emmy-writes-sometimes @dudele @kerrswriting @laura-naruto-fan1998 @multifamdomfan12 @aquariuslavenderhoney @rafehogwarts

#x daughter!reader #x teen!reader #x child reader #x sister!reader #sebastian stan #chris evans #mgg #tom holland #bucky barnes #ransom drysdale #spencer reid #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau

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